A violent life meets a violent endAnd yet I find myself sobbingSobbing over the memories unearthed by your death.The door reopenedThe coffin exhumedThe terror in my chestThe fear in my heartThe memory of meeting you The article said you were in your late 40s or early 50s.I also thought you were younger when we met.Like…

What do you mean I have to wake up my sleeping babies to get ready for school  While other babies are being put behind concrete walls and barbed wire?  What do you mean I have to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich  While children across America can’t afford basic pantry staples and have lunch…

I am angry. I am sad. I am terrified. I am happy. I am proud. I am sobbing. I am worried. I can’t keep watching the videos. Of men. Women. Being murdered. Murdered. On the streets of America. For existing. For being human. For saying enough. “He was bait.” He was a CHILD. In a…