Where is her protest?

Where is the rage burning for the female body

Not televised, not recorded,

her death, not a silent act 

A violent exchange of bullet to skin

eight times 

Her screams, her cries 

Still echoing in the walls of an apartment 

Once home— now a battle ground 

She…was a brief moment

A hashtag 

Her life, a brief moment

The fury diminished to fumes

Her murderers home,

Sitting comfortably 

Her body home,

Sitting unrest underground

Do not forget about the black woman

Do no forget about the chest that kept you

The hands that held you

They say 7 is the number of completion 

So the irony of You not experiencing your 27 birthday

sits as acidic as the blood

seeped into your apartment carpets

We are a year apart 

27 was the year I found myself,

was the year I found how to re-speak

the name God on my tongue 

The year I found love 

The year I lived life to the fullest—

Your life….cut short, unplugged

Wiped from the story 

I pray you lived your best year 

I pray you found yourself before you lost her

I pray that as the bullets hit you, that God held you 

All in the same breath why you breathed your last

I am sorry your life could not have seen fullness,

could not have reached completion

Your body may be buried love,

Your name will not be 

Arielle Estoria

#sayhername

#breonnataylor

https://msha.ke/30flirtyfilm/