I know that you tied that bandana around your face, pulled your hair into a bun, and stepped out of your house ready for the rebellion.
As we marched past the cops in riot gear, you let the rage boil your blood.
You centered yourself in the crowd, and screamed at the top of your lungs.
You had expected everyone to listen, as they always do. 
When we looked at you with urgency in our eyes, you seemed confused. 
It didn’t make sense to you why no one was joining in, so you tried again, louder this time. 
I was ready to scream in your face.
I turned around ready to yell “how dare you?”
To explain that it is not your place to do things that you will not receive punishment for.
But then, someone much more smart and calm than I am yelled
“say her name”
And we drowned out your voice with the response:
“Breonna Taylor”