A Stellar Flare of Young Adult Writing and Visual Art
BY JAYOLA REID
i. I wish I could touch your mouth that is pouring out blood. I wish I could feel the tenderness of your wrists from the tight handcuffs. I wish I could stroke your beautiful brown skin that was turning a shade of purple. I wish I could lightly graze my trembling fingertips over your swollen lips. My wish is to feel the internal wounds that you suffer with. ii. If I had one wish I would ask for you to feel me too. To feel my presence among and with you, as they degrade and demean you. Your beautiful dark skin turning to shades of black and blue. They are acting as though you are some sort of animal ~ a criminal ~ Not even the fiercest lion could endure what they put you through. iii. I wish I could touch the salty tears that rolled down your mother's cheeks. I wish I could feel your father's sore throat from screaming you can't breathe. I wish I could feel your entire body in my arms as you fall unconsciously onto the concrete. iv. I wish I could feel my knees drop to the ground as I get down and pray. Gunshot after Gunshot. Say their names. I wish those bullets would have come right back to them like a boomerang. Cops always take perfect aim. This is one of those insufferable types of pains, one I cant even use words to explain. Sad to say but this is just another day. We’ll remember your face. BANG!...BANG...Bang...bang...bang.. `
Jayola Reid is 16 years old. She lives in the Bronx, New York.
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