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to be alive (a montage of our marches in summer 2015)

i was cut open today

by the anguish in the cries

of our young people

insisting to matter

in a world where they don't 

in a world where their skin

means criminal, 

savage,

and not human. 

i was cut open today

by the breaking

of my friend's voice

when he called aloud

the names of all the black

kids,

brothers,

sisters,

mothers,

fathers,

humans

that have been taken from us,

and he said "there are so many,

god, so many,"

but we are only halfway through

a never-ending list. 

i was cut open today

by the look of pain

that formed upon the faces

of my beloved sisters

at the apathetic cars that were

too impatient,

too bothered,

too indifferent

to slow down or stop for

our broken hearts,

our broken spirits,

our broken bodies. 

in this world,

in this grief,

in this sorrow,

i am cut open

again and again. 

i am emptied

then refilled,

emptied,

then refilled

with immense sadness,

with immense rage,

with immense pain. 

these waters flow past the brim

and in this release,

there is a break of love,

there is a break of hope,

there is a break of light

that make their way in

briefly yet powerfully. 

it is this tormented exhale

that brings the deepest inhale. 

i am breathing,

we are breathing,

this is what it means

to be us

and alive.

thy nguyen