A Law, A Settlement, Endless Press,Yet No Justice For Breonna

Processing.

Currently many of us are trying to swallow this giant jagged and razor sharp pill.

On some level we didn’t expect justice because we’ve unfortunately become accustomed to the message peppered over our lives that manages to shout to us “pssst, your life doesn’t matter” in a way that for the longest time it seemed only we could hear it.

Still, we hope. Quietly, we hope. With very little proof, we still hoped this time might be different. It seemed too obvious this time, didn’t it?

As for me, I feel something that can be confused for numbness but I know it’s pain, despair, fear and disappointment all mixed up and stitched together in a way that I can manage it.

Breonna deserved so much more, starting with the fullest expression of her life, uninterrupted.

Part of me wonders, how many more cops will storm into homes under false pretenses, murder innocent black people and get away with it? Will it be someone I know, someone I love? Will it be me?

I’m afraid to go to most places in this country I call home, and someone once told me “I shouldn’t be like that.”
That statement was enough to alert me that an explanation would be pointless.

You know what I wish? I wish America wasn’t like this.

This is not justice.

Black Lives Matter!