I feel helpless
I am so angry
I am so sad
and this isn't about me
I sit in my privilege and I pick at scars others would be glad to have
I am exhausted
exhausted by the anger
(I don't do anger well)
I have made myself sick from it
(but never have I feared for my life at the hands of police)
I don't know how to help
I can't help
I try to help
I've been told I care too much
(I do. It just is.)
I tell myself I don't care enough
(I do.)
I want to fix it. to fix it all.
the inbred hate
the centuries of oppression
the system after system after system of racism meant to hold some up
and others down
I apologize
for my silence
for the sins of those who share my colour of skin
for the things I can not change and can not fix
and for the people who don't quite seem to get it
yet
I don't know what to do
it seems trite to find joy
it seems lame to search for peace
how can I
share beauty
love
art and peace
when my brothers and sisters are dying
killed
murdered
hurt
injured
held down, held back
thought less of
by some
anger on both sides
anger on all sides
and I don't know what to do
I don't know how to be
what to say
how to breathe
(and yet there is no knee on my neck, no gun taking away my life, my lungs have range of motion, my breaths come slow and easy. I can breathe. I just don't know how anymore.)
