What hasn’t already been expressed about the recent -deliberate- death/murder of George Floyd, or those of the past who have suffered the same fate?
What hasn’t already been felt at the soul level when watching the news of that horrific video footage of yet another Black Man murdered at the hands of White Cops?
What do you see when a Black man is dying before your very eyes? I see my brother, my father, my hypothetical sons(s), my male friends, my anscestors, I SEE ME!!
I SEE ME!!
I SEE ME!!
Being hung, castrated, tortured, beaten, gunned down, mistreated, disrespected.
The images…made raw, painful, and profound…drain down to the reservoir of my soul.
What is this trauma of watching oneself being murdered with complete disregard to your humanity?
WHY…is this happening?
How much stored trauma can one soul endure? And when does the trauma become toxic to the host…to the society responsible for its existence?
WHY…has this ugliness been accpetable?
Why am I made to witness my death…over and over and over and over and over and over again?
Is my Blackness so repulsive & unwelcome to this world inherited by us all?
Will the pain of my reoccurring death ever cease?
Why can’t we hear the echoing horrors of Black Mother’s everywhere? -screaming from the depths of their bottomless souls for their untold losses.
What sound in this world can be more devastating and penetrating?
Why must we pay such a debt with our lives for Our Blackness? For simply being who we are?
Is there no value to what God has assigned?
Is my Blackness made to be the scourge by a White mental sickness?
Are we really afraid of the Corona virus when we’re in the forever presence of such a White sickness that attacks Black skin…Black Life…Black souls…?
My reflection…so many faces, and lifeless Black bodies…all demeaned and made obsolete.
Where do we hide? Or do we remain in plain sight?
Either way, the pain -conscious & unconscious- never ceases to have its place with us. It’s born to us, generation after generation.
This is our plight…the bearers of infinite trauma stored within our Blackness. Our collective wound, gaping and impossible.
And yet…We rise! We shine! We persevere, and exist in spite of.
No matter the effort, we can’t be done away with.
No matter the effort, we refuse to be done away with.
Our place is here…past, present & future.
Our inheritance is no greater or lesser than.
We exist because we’re Purposed this way, and we’ll continue to exist in the face of it all.
So tell me…! Why…?