Wet, murky, cold.
Grass against face
Helpless, stiff and paralyzed.
You know how you have those moments where
Everything feels like an out of body experience?
I'm having one now, but it might be for real this time.
I had a slight thirst before and had set out to quench it
That was a couple of hours ago.
I don't feel the thirst anymore though.
I don't really feel anything.
Everybody's crowded around me snapping pictures
Like I'm a celebrity.
But I can't remember anything I did to deserve it.
They are moving around using words like "gunshot",
"Wound", "Evidence" and "victim".
But there's no way they could be talking about me.
I'm pleading to them as loudly as I can
Somebody please come help me up.
It's cold out here and I'm all wet from the rain.
I guess I must have put on a few pounds since
This morning because I can't even lift myself.
This ground against my face is not the best feeling,
But I guess I'll wait until you finish before I ask for help again.
In the meantime, how am I gonna explain to my dad that
I didn't do the dishes because I played video games all day?
And I know my mom is gonna wonder why I'm so late
Calling her back. Maybe that was her texting me.
I heard my phone ring a few times, but I couldn't answer
For whatever reason.
I have a million things to do and a million calls I'd rather be
Making, but here I am, lying face down in the grass.
People are still taking pictures and
I hear one of them saying my name.
They're asking questions, but it's funny that no one bothers
To talk to me.
"He followed him around this corner and he saw him with his
Hands in the pocket of his hoodie."
Followed. Hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
Now that you mention it, I do remember that!
Yeah! I heard the dude behind me
But I didn't know what he wanted.
Maybe he thought I was up to something.
Young, Black. I guess I fit the profile.
I figured I better mention this creepy ass cracker to my
Friend, just in case he tried something.
I saw him looking at me a few minutes ago and he just
Didn't seem right.
All I had in my pocket was a bag of Skittles my step-brother
Asked for and the watermelon Arizona I got for that
Thirst I told you about.
But he didn't know that.
I figured maybe if I put my hands in my pocket like I
Had a gun, he would put that together with young and Black
And leave me alone.
But, nah. This dude was up to something.
He gained on me and it looked like he had something in his hand.
Was that a gun?! Why pull a piece on a kid walking home
In the rain?
I heard my heart beating in my ears when he grabbed me.
My life flashed before my eyes and I knew I had to fight
For what was left of it.
Neighbors! They don't know me that well, but
Maybe if they hear me screaming, they'll come get
This dude off me.
Help! Heeeeeeeelp! Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!
I screamed so loud my lungs hurt.
Instead of somebody coming out, some weirdo sets
Off a firework.
Not like one of the Fourth of July combo ones,
But one.....single....firework.
But I guess it was something about the firework
Because it made the dude stop what he was doing.
It must have been one loud ass firework too
Because I went deaf for a while after that.
As a matter of fact, before these people showed up,
That was the last thing I heard.
Now they are in a circle around me but I wonder if they
Even know that I can hear them.
They're asking about this one dude, a cop I think,
Who came over to me.
It looked like he was trying to give me mouth to mouth.
I never understood why he thought I needed it,
But he didn't really give me a chance to ask questions.
A whole lot of strange stuff had happened tonight.
These random people are asking about that scar on my knuckle.
It's a really funny story behind that.
I would be glad to tell it if they would just...help...me...UP!
Wait. What are they talking about?
"Bashed his head on the concrete"?
Who did that?! Did somebody show up to help me?!
"Slim jim"?!
Who the hell needs a slim jim to go to the 7 Eleven?!
"Might have been high on something"?!
It's been DAYS since I smoked weed!
"Zimmerman feared for his life?!"
"Zimmerman"?! Is that the creepy cracker's name?! And HE was
The one with the gun! What did HE have to be scared of?!
Man, help me up, so I can tell y'all what REALLY happened!
Okay! Okay! Somebody must have heard me.
They're turning me over.
Okay. Here we go.
Wait. Something doesn't feel right.
What's going on with my chest?
The air just isn't circulating right.
It seems like it's passing straight through me.
It's not circulating at all.
And why am I so damn HEAVY?!
These people keep talking so loud!
I can't even think straight!
They keep going on and on about some "victim",
A "fatal gunshot wound", some "911 call" and the "time of dea--"
Wait. Everybody out here is looking at ME.
When they say "victim", they look at ME.
And for the "fatal gunshot wound", they keep
Pointing at that hole I never saw in my hoodie before.
Damn.
I should have called my mom
And done those dishes.
I should have explained those pictures of me on Facebook too.
I've never been a gangsta, but it was fun pretending.
Oh, and I probably should have pulled up my grades too.
I just hope that somebody tells my parents that I meant to.
That may not be as good as doing all that, but
There was no way I could have known that I would never get
The chance again.
I put this hoodie on to keep warm.
But nothing could have prepared me for this
Type of cold.
Grass against face
Helpless, stiff and paralyzed.
You know how you have those moments where
Everything feels like an out of body experience?
I'm having one now, but it might be for real this time.
I had a slight thirst before and had set out to quench it
That was a couple of hours ago.
I don't feel the thirst anymore though.
I don't really feel anything.
Everybody's crowded around me snapping pictures
Like I'm a celebrity.
But I can't remember anything I did to deserve it.
They are moving around using words like "gunshot",
"Wound", "Evidence" and "victim".
But there's no way they could be talking about me.
I'm pleading to them as loudly as I can
Somebody please come help me up.
It's cold out here and I'm all wet from the rain.
I guess I must have put on a few pounds since
This morning because I can't even lift myself.
This ground against my face is not the best feeling,
But I guess I'll wait until you finish before I ask for help again.
In the meantime, how am I gonna explain to my dad that
I didn't do the dishes because I played video games all day?
And I know my mom is gonna wonder why I'm so late
Calling her back. Maybe that was her texting me.
I heard my phone ring a few times, but I couldn't answer
For whatever reason.
I have a million things to do and a million calls I'd rather be
Making, but here I am, lying face down in the grass.
People are still taking pictures and
I hear one of them saying my name.
They're asking questions, but it's funny that no one bothers
To talk to me.
"He followed him around this corner and he saw him with his
Hands in the pocket of his hoodie."
Followed. Hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
Now that you mention it, I do remember that!
Yeah! I heard the dude behind me
But I didn't know what he wanted.
Maybe he thought I was up to something.
Young, Black. I guess I fit the profile.
I figured I better mention this creepy ass cracker to my
Friend, just in case he tried something.
I saw him looking at me a few minutes ago and he just
Didn't seem right.
All I had in my pocket was a bag of Skittles my step-brother
Asked for and the watermelon Arizona I got for that
Thirst I told you about.
But he didn't know that.
I figured maybe if I put my hands in my pocket like I
Had a gun, he would put that together with young and Black
And leave me alone.
But, nah. This dude was up to something.
He gained on me and it looked like he had something in his hand.
Was that a gun?! Why pull a piece on a kid walking home
In the rain?
I heard my heart beating in my ears when he grabbed me.
My life flashed before my eyes and I knew I had to fight
For what was left of it.
Neighbors! They don't know me that well, but
Maybe if they hear me screaming, they'll come get
This dude off me.
Help! Heeeeeeeelp! Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!
I screamed so loud my lungs hurt.
Instead of somebody coming out, some weirdo sets
Off a firework.
Not like one of the Fourth of July combo ones,
But one.....single....firework.
But I guess it was something about the firework
Because it made the dude stop what he was doing.
It must have been one loud ass firework too
Because I went deaf for a while after that.
As a matter of fact, before these people showed up,
That was the last thing I heard.
Now they are in a circle around me but I wonder if they
Even know that I can hear them.
They're asking about this one dude, a cop I think,
Who came over to me.
It looked like he was trying to give me mouth to mouth.
I never understood why he thought I needed it,
But he didn't really give me a chance to ask questions.
A whole lot of strange stuff had happened tonight.
These random people are asking about that scar on my knuckle.
It's a really funny story behind that.
I would be glad to tell it if they would just...help...me...UP!
Wait. What are they talking about?
"Bashed his head on the concrete"?
Who did that?! Did somebody show up to help me?!
"Slim jim"?!
Who the hell needs a slim jim to go to the 7 Eleven?!
"Might have been high on something"?!
It's been DAYS since I smoked weed!
"Zimmerman feared for his life?!"
"Zimmerman"?! Is that the creepy cracker's name?! And HE was
The one with the gun! What did HE have to be scared of?!
Man, help me up, so I can tell y'all what REALLY happened!
Okay! Okay! Somebody must have heard me.
They're turning me over.
Okay. Here we go.
Wait. Something doesn't feel right.
What's going on with my chest?
The air just isn't circulating right.
It seems like it's passing straight through me.
It's not circulating at all.
And why am I so damn HEAVY?!
These people keep talking so loud!
I can't even think straight!
They keep going on and on about some "victim",
A "fatal gunshot wound", some "911 call" and the "time of dea--"
Wait. Everybody out here is looking at ME.
When they say "victim", they look at ME.
And for the "fatal gunshot wound", they keep
Pointing at that hole I never saw in my hoodie before.
Damn.
I should have called my mom
And done those dishes.
I should have explained those pictures of me on Facebook too.
I've never been a gangsta, but it was fun pretending.
Oh, and I probably should have pulled up my grades too.
I just hope that somebody tells my parents that I meant to.
That may not be as good as doing all that, but
There was no way I could have known that I would never get
The chance again.
I put this hoodie on to keep warm.
But nothing could have prepared me for this
Type of cold.
TK
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