I can’t breathe. No really, I can’t breathe. My lungs are filled with tears; tears of anger and grief and hate and love. My hearts drowns out my breath, my thoughts, my being till all that is left is pain. I am on my knees hoping that the God I wish to serve would only rescue me, rescue us from this world we created. I hold my breath hoping that it will all be over soon, but it won’t. I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe knowing that my friends, my neighbors, my family may not come home tonight. It is police versus public, a war zone in my backyard. Did you hear me? Can you hear me? I can’t breathe.
But listen, its not just me. We can’t breathe. We can’t breathe when the people who have sworn to protect us are the ones hurting us. We can’t breathe when the color of our skin determines which privileges and opportunities we get. We can’t breathe because not all of us will make it home tonight. We can’t breathe.