My arms ache with exhaustion. Marching all night; those who rest face arrest. No place to put my Black Lives Matter sign. But what about my life? Do I matter? Working all day, marching at night, for people so angry we are in arms. Arm in arm, we march. We yell. We protest.
The officer watches me darkly, immune to my passion. We share a common space. The same earth, the same air. Different laws. But can he see? We have more in common than we have different.
The protester eyes me threateningly, immune to my worries. I am the villain, he is unafraid. How do I protect from one who is unafraid to die? Yet my job is to protect him too. How can I protect him from himself?
My body aches with exhaustion. Standing all night, unmoving, waiting. Black Lives Matter, they say. But what about my life? Do I matter? We share a common space. We share the same earth, the same air, the same laws. Does he see? We have more in common than we have different.