All I hear is screams and moans. The streets rattled like bass drums, bodies falling to a genocide beat. All week the sirens, the death, the noise of a constant flow of hate. This nation brews its coffee with a liquid thicker than water. We have come a long way from the painted streets and the renaming of historic alleyways. On that same street, cops line up with riot gear nightly. Ready and waiting to play the song this nation loves, the genocide beat.
We don’t remember our Mondays as we head into the weekend. We seem to forget that ICE is sterilizing women. It is old news now—the cries from the detention centers muddled with the yell for the Supreme Court’s next announcement. While people gathered for the Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s funeral, the totalitarian state remained at work. We stood and prayed. We marched and sang. Bodies continued to fall.
We were energized to come out and stand together, but now I believe we are rushing back to our homes. The song that we hear outside is not sweet. This is not something we can party to. We brace ourselves in the harsh realities of what is next. An election that this president states he will do everything to stay in office. Like the dollar, our ballots meaningless in his eyes; they can be thrown, or better yet, burned.
With over 3,000 deaths charged to the wildfires on the west coast, this gets muddled with the COVID-19 deaths. As we surpass the 200,000 lives lost, we still have some claiming it is all a hoax. It is fake news until death comes for you. With this ideal, the same folks empower America’s police departments to give death sentences on the spot.
The justified genocide, the reasonable detainment of those living. We have empowered those with guns to play the judge, jury, and executioner. If you cannot be detained, then you must be slain. All in harmony from coast to coast, we watch the news playing this tune, not me, it is you. When will America realize the genocide beat is not at your doorstep, or across the ocean, but in all of our homes.
Trump successfully dehumanized America as a whole. We are the walking dead under this regime if we continue to allow us versus them mentality. We must truly be a country that decides freedom and justice matters as we pursue equity for all. It cannot be for the chosen, white, suburban few.
This nation is burning with tragedy, and it appears that only one thing can put it out. Our tears. Whether they come from tear gas smoke or at a funeral, it is clear to me that we will not find water or help anywhere else. I wish I could say that the coming days will get easier because tomorrow’s news will be more hopeful. We all know that is not the case.
We can sit and dream, yell, and wish for things to get better. Engage in pettiness and canceling of each. Or realize that it will only get harder, we must continue to fight. Use our tears for our water. What we all know is that this nation is thirsty for change. This administration is not going to give some magic healing tea. What is brewed has awakened us to the reality of the time. We hear the screams and moans—the genocide beat. Only our continued effort to persevere and fight. To come together, with our collective minds, hearts, and tears, will be able to amass enough water to put out the fire of hate.