I thought my tear well had been depleted. I thought the resources were completely diminished. I thought the heated storms had evaporated every ounce that poured from my heart. I thought this vicious system that dehumanizes me daily had taken every single drop away. I thought this ground fertilized with black blood would no longer be watered by these tears. I thought the dead black bodies buried as if they were seeds would no longer receive replenishment from these eyes. I thought.
But then in the face of more strange fruit riddled with bullets and soaked with blood, strange fruit that happens to be a woman, strange fruit that happens to be a mother, I watched as my “brothers” justified her murder. These “brothers” are also victims of state sanctioned violence, and much too familiar with this process criminalizing and defiling dead black people. I watched. I watched, then I poured out some more from this depleted well.