I’m dead in America. This is a country where women can murder their children, cry a few crocodile tears on tv, take a short tour of prison and be out in time to spend Christmas with their families. This is a country where I could be shot through the heart by a maniac drunk with undue power and HE get sympathy because he claims he feared for the life that HE still has. This is a country where I can’t leave my children alone with a babysitter without bearing witness to them being viciously beaten by someone I trusted to care for them. This is a country where joyful days and meaningful marathons are spattered with blood because sick, twisted souls decided a bomb belonged in the middle. I live in a country where I can’t count on my children going to school and coming home alive and enriched without having to worry about some bully waiting for them around the corner. For what? Because they don’t like their shirt, or their hair isn’t the right color or because they “think they’re better than everybody else”. This is a country where black skin gets you black listed and where light skin can make you the white elephant and you’re pretty much damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You say that I have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But you can keep that bullshit. My time on death row began once I left the womb.
TK
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