Portside

Some Days It Seems Like All We Can Do with Our Lives Is Lose Them

By Tessara Dudley

we wear Black skin in America

we know every moment spent outside

we are endangered

we are exposed

we carry the tension of looming threat tight in our chests

we feel peril prickle the backs of our necks

and we know

we are one traffic stop from an early grave

we know the news will say

we shouldn’t have resisted

we shouldn’t have struggled

we shouldn’t have worn our hoods up

we made the cops shoot

we came from broken homes

and we know

we will stand with our hands wide open

we will stand with our eyes wide open with our hearts wide open

we will stand with honest words on our lips

we will stand

we will know every word we speak is true

we will know every word counts for nothing

we know we are human

we know we are not allowed to be human

and we know

we will see the cops watching us

we will see you passing by

we will see you refusing to watch them watch us

we will plead with our eyes for your intervention

we will beg for your simple human recognition

we will think about Sandra Bland

we will think about Eric Garner

we will think about Oscar Grant, Aiyana Jones, Kendra James

we will think about our children

we will think about our partners parents cousins friends

we will feel the sun hot on our backs and the breeze blowing by

we will pray our mothers forgive us

and we will think:

I’m not getting in that car.

Tessara Dudley is a poet and activist making art at the intersection of working class Black queer femme disabled life. Her hobbies include studying history, fighting oppression, building safer communities, and knitting. Tessara can be found at http://tessaradudley.com