Visible Grief

I didn’t want to watch Philando Castile die but by the time I realized what was happening, I had watched him die.⠀

I just can’t seem to unsee that.⠀

I only read what went down when Atatiana Jefferson was gunned down by Fort Worth police in her home as she played video games with her nephew.⠀

But for some reason I can’t unsee her murder either.⠀

I didn’t want to hear George Floyd cry out for his mother as he was suffocated to death under the weight of three Minneapolis cops, but I was too slow to the mute button.⠀

And now I’m having the hardest time unhearing that.⠀

Many of my white family and friends uttered ear-piercing silences following his murder but uproar after Target and Cub Foods were broken into.⠀

Those are two more things I won’t be able to unhear.⠀

There is never a convenient time for grief to make itself visible.⠀

When it does it breaks glass and skin. It starts fires. It destroys city blocks.⠀

Sooner or later that which can’t be unseen or unheard bleeds from memories, clenches fists and forces guttural cries through praying lips.