for colored girls who cry out to GOD / when 400 years weren't enuf

i'm not going to perform weariness, because i'm disturbed by how numb i've become to a lot of this. i'm not here to explain what this country was built on. if you don't know by now, i pray GOD opens your eyes and softens your heart. i'm not here center myself in the pain of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, their families, or the many other black people affected by this treachery throughout history. but i jotted down a poem to process things:

for colored girls who cry out to GOD / when 400 years weren't enuf

"And she was loved!" we scream when principalities end our sisters' lives.

"And she was loved!" we weep when posts and hashtags outnumber prayers.

"And [he] was loved!" we sing even when this country's history says "nah."

"And she was loved!" we dream. at least God decides whether we wake up.

(in memory of every black life snuffed out by wickedness since 1619)