My Execution Won’t Be Televised…

Last summer, I would stay up well past 2AM most nights. I would sleep on my couch because–from my couch, I can see both doors into my house. I would check at least 5 times to make sure my alarm was set. And then, I would just lay there–terrified and alone. 

& then last summer, my friend posted “My Execution Might Be Televised”. I watched it over, and over, and over again in the middle of the night for at least two weeks and then I wrote back.

Not back to him, but back to you.

At the time, I only shared it with him, but today I share it with you. One year later as a reminder that “other mosquitoes carry strains that can even kill you…”

Note: The language is graphic, but so is killing a Black woman in her own home. 

Watch “My Execution Might Be Televised”

My execution won’t be televised..

His execution might be televised 

Further traumatizing the marginalized

& Black women will go out and fight and uprise

—only to be later victimized  

Our execution won’t be televised 

—but our bodies will be immortalized until they have utilized 

everything we personify 

Our execution may not be televised 

& is that why you cannot empathize.. 

or legitimize our pain 

So you ostracize our existence 

While we’re still leading the resistance 

We’re on the front lines, cause we’re essential 

But they’ll come into our homes and take our mental —

They’ll fill our bodies with holes 

And then try to dispose 

Of the truth, 

They say we experienced zero injury

& leave our minds in misery 

Many nights, I am terrified 

To go to sleep at night 

But maybe death will be only way to escape being vilified 

Yeah our people are being killed, 

by the country that we built…

but our bodies are found dead 

by the men that we breed..

We breed

—whether from our womb or are breast

our bodies are not honored like all the rest. 

It’s why we scream SAYHERNAME 

Because without herstory, our world isn’t the same! 

Our bodies birthed a literal nation

—from a fucking plantation 

They’re still operating on us without anesthesia 

And when we call out their whiteness, 

they wanna act like they have amnesia 

But no one comes for our salvation 

Our names and narratives get lost in translation 

And out of desperation—

We fill our minds with aspirations 

That one day our lives will be worth liberation 

Most nights I’m up past 2AM

Wondering if next will be my name 

My name that you meme

just to make it seem 

That they don’t understand the extreme

Of what her murder really means 

I don’t understand why we haven’t torn the whole city up

Is 8 holes in our body not enough 

I run to protect my body 

From the destruction of this society 

But white people do one anti-racist thing 

& want some fucking notoriety  

I’m tired of hearing “I’m seen”

Because all you really mean 

is that you’re bout to put on a scene

I don’t need any more performances 

I need you to fight against these fucking injustices 

Even when we live tweet our pain 

Our lives are taken in vain 

I swear this shit Is driving me insane 

How long are we gonna let this remain 

I’m tired of hearing “I’m heard” 

When white people ain’t listening to a fucking word 

Your complacency is absurd  

My words don’t usually carry any weight

But when we say #SayHerName, there is no debate 

So maybe you’re arriving late,

The time is now for you to step up to the plate

We never wanted a platform 

& maybe that’s why Black women aren’t gone to bat for 

But now it’s time to act for ‘em!