-Can be read as a stand alone-
Heart: In the streets of Atlanta it is what many will die behind, and what many will get themselves killed trying to prove.
But for some, heart comes naturally. It doesn't have to be proven, it is simply there from th...
This chapter is dedicated to my Black brothers and sisters who are in pain. Who are stuck trying to figure out why our lives can't seem to matter to those sworn to protect it. Hell, to those who aren't but still insist on not seeing us. This chapter is dedicated to my Black women whose strength and resilience have pushed us forward. Who are scared to love, but do so anyway because our love powers nations. This chapter is dedicated to my Black men who are learning to love, who are teaching other Black men to love, and who see that the same strength that exists in protest also exists in vulnerability and loving those within our community. The Black men who fight to exist everyday in a world that tries everyday to break them down, and break their spirit. Your protest aren't in vain. Nor are your tears, your anguish, or you're pleads to simply be seen as equal.
I love you all.
I see you all.
You matter to me. Always.
Marcus Katrell Daniels
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"Too many sins I'm running out Somebody send me a well for the drought See, all I know, is taking notes On taking this life for granted" •••
As soon as the door slammed closed I couldn't even bring myself to stop the tears that rushed down my face. Before this week I couldn't recall the last time I cried to save my life. Yet, since the night Andre died I'd cried three times.
The first time being the night of his death in the darkness of my room.
The second time being when I watched the casket close, and it hit me that the moment it sealed shut I would no longer see the face of somebody who'd been in my life for almost all of. it.
The third was now as I watched the Lord's unquestionable gift to me walk out of my life.
The other times I knew that eventually the pain I felt eventually subside. This last time as Jalyn's screams and cries echoed throughout my mind beating and hacking at every exposed nerve, I didn't know if it ever would. I didn't think I had the raw strength to ever heal from this. To get over losing the best thing that could've ever happened to me.
To be honest, I was pretty sure I would rather have been in the grave with Andre and as I felt myself crumbling helplessly apart, I did the only thing I felt I could do as I flipped over the metal and glass table as if it was but a pillow on the couch she once sat.
I screamed.
I climbed out of the black reinforced Jeep truck. I was dressed down in all black and the weight of the guns I had secured on me seemed almost feather light in comparison to the emotional weight I was keeping locked away in the back of my mind at the moment.
