Posts for June 6, 2023 (page 14)

Numbers
For Breonna Tayloy
On the First Anniversary of Her Death

26
Breonna Taylor. 26-years-old. 
Breezy, Black woman. 
Bree, exemplary EMT. 
Frontline worker at two hospitals. 
Pretty. Vibrant. Saver of lives,
who lost her own at the hands of police, 
unprovoked, at home.

12
March 12th,
a day too short. 
No one could know
just how short.

12
Breonna Taylor goes to bed. 
Sweet, sleeping Bree, safe as houses, 
dreaming Black girl magical dreams. 
But if you’re Black even houses
don’t keep you safe.

12
Minutes after midnight, a battering ram  
violates her peaceful slumber. 

7
Officers entered the apartment. 

1
Good man, her lover,grabs his registered gun
aiming low. A warning shot,
but the invaders come in hot, 
bullets like bombs exploding,
leaving plumes of smoke and holes
in the living room walls.

64
Shots fired into Breonna Taylor’s apartment.

5
Minutes she choked on her own blood.

0 
Aid was given as she bled to death.

5 
Bullets first reported to have killed her.

6
Actual bullets tore into this beautiful, Black woman.

0
Years is how many Breonna Taylor has left to live.

4
Officers faced federally charges for the crimes that killed her.

0 
Real justice was done.

1
Of the policemen wrote a book to tell his side of the story.

0
Fucks are what anyone gives about his side or his book.

Countless
Social justice warriors around the globe protested.

Countless
People still mourn her.

13

Is the day in March when we remember Breonna Taylor.
When we remember how she died.

1 
Beloved, Black Kentucky woman, Breonna Taylor.
We love you. We will not forget.

1
Breonna Taylor, rest in power.
#SayHerName

It used to be I couldn’t sleep with socks on.
Something about the cotton against my skin became so much more
noticeable once the lights went out.

My toes would sweat and, despite my anxiety
around escaping a burning building quickly, I couldn’t justify
being quite so prepared.

Plus I liked the freedom of being
able to wiggle and squirm without constraint. Like rows of loose teeth
or piano keys played with no regard.

But something happened
in the last two years my toes don’t toss and turn at bed time
if I forget to remove their fuzzy companions.

I can still sleep and move, breathe
as needed. Play my toes in simple songs while wrapped in a blanket
and an extra layer of warmth.

In fact, I think they might like the security
of the socks more than the autonomy of nakedness at this point.
Sometimes there is comfort in change.

You needed a change in the seasons
you couldn’t remember when it wasn’t winter in the evening
your cousin died and you forgot to process the emotions and then you started grieving;
waking up crying from dreaming

he visits you along with the others who brought you meaning,
you get taught a lot when you are in REM without intervening
waking up into another dream but it isn’t less weaning

your subconscious always convening, meetings into meetings after meetings