Sending my love my brother. Every time this happens, I think of my sons and all Black men. Black people everywhere in fact. We have no one but us, and our few good allies. Every time a Black man is killed, every Black mama cries and grieves with the grieving mother. Her son is our son. These men belong to all of us. As a mother, it breaks my soul. I can't even describe how it hurts. I call my sons. I check on my dad. I listen to my brother's fears and anger.

This is never just a single, isolated death. The death of our men at the hand of slave patrollers is one thing, watching the government we pay taxes to do nothing to protect us is a whole other story. I'm broken, but I want men to talk about it. Speak. You have enough pinned up inside of you. Tell you story. Say your peace. Grieve. It's time, again.

Marley K ❤️

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