“I wonder if black boys go to heaven when they die I wonder if black boys go to heaven when they die, because it feels like they have taken residence just above my lungs That this tightness in my chest isn’t anxiety, its Trayvon and Tamir making space for Philando That this shortness of breath isn’t panic, it’s Eric and Ezell, pressed against my lungs trying to escape with the next deep breath But there are none, Maybe I’m worried if I breath too deeply Fruitvale Station will just be another stop on the BART and won’t remind me of Oscar’s smile I wonder if Black boys go to heaven when they die, or if we hold them captive in our chests, if the tightness isn’t anxiety, it’s John Crawford & Michael brown making space for Freddie gray, our shortness of breath isn’t panic, but Walter Scott pressed against our lungs trying to escape with the next deep breath but there are none”
— LifeofKonsequence
