The revolution becomes televised,

the headlines read “suicide,”

when both you and G*d

already know the truth.

Masters go swimming.

A Wendy’s went burning.

My mind wants revenge,

but revenge won’t bring healing.

Say their names.

When the lootin’ starts,

I can’t hear past the harmonies of my ancestors singing

let freedom ring!

Turns out freedom looked like a ring of fire and

the whole place coming down in flames.

I can’t see past the smoke,

and I’m okay with that.

It’s funny how they want movers and shakers

until it’s time to shake some shit up.

Say their names.

When the lootin’ starts,

I can’t leave my house without a mask,

But I’m not tripping cause I heard those

pigs love to throw teargas

in the middle of a pandemic.

Cold shower

Cold shower

Cold shower

Say their names.

When the lootin’ starts

I find myself walking that line between staying aware and

keeping my sanity.

Until the line grows too thin that

I realize I’m floating.

What strength comes from growing numb?

I’m starting to think, perhaps,

They’re the ones

crazed and dazed,

insane and inhumane,

played out,

things will never be the same.

PLEASE!

Say their names.

When the lootin’ starts,

Whites become “pick mes” and

Start talking about “unprecedented times” -

When all of this seems so precedented,

Too precedented.

Black people having to resist to exist.

So the fuck what, the world seems to be upside down.

Especially when my people have had to learn to

walk on ceilings -

do the impossible -

Just to live.

Goddammit!

SAY THEIR NAMES!

When the lootin’ starts,

I can’t sit by and do nothing,

So I write for the voices that’ll never get to speak again.

I write to illuminate those failed by the system.

I see you.

I feel you.

I am you.

I’m screaming your names,

until one day someone will stop and listen,

and then scream with me.