Dear wounds that wake me up in the middle of the night, more like 3:44am
I wanted to sleep like my life depended only because I think my life depended on it.
I wanted to trade my frustration, any sense normalcy
I wanted my Kumbaya moment,
I wanted the rapper on the hip-hop station to include real words that even at 39, I could say was relevant and I could relate
I wanted the humans walking to stop, feel the earth rotating
I wanted to see people hold their brown babies, mija, mijo, welcome to the good life, with little centavos (pennies) we’ve saved a good place to close your eyes and sleep
relax those heavy dark circles inside your head and dream
dream the trees preparing themselves for winter,
see the city ripe with opportunity
see the small business, see a proud family
I pray you dream the red-river,
remember the slave codes
dream- and remember the gas-chamber
walk down the remember the trail of tears
and remember, the ghost of nation
dream -rapid sharks in the mouth
teeth in acid
I pray you remember…. Kindness sis. Krissy
A Poet's Vision 
I do remember, Krissy, and I long for the things you long for. Thank you for this.
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😊💕
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I want to remember the reparations, remember the heart changing, remember the justice, remember the new beginnings. But before that — these.
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so true…
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Krissy, you’re going to have to update your bio to add: “Keeper of Hope/Bringer of Truth.” Magnificent!
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this blessed me… thank you
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Thank you for ALL your remembrances. We add the potato famine (Great Hunger) Of Ireland when the Choctaw Indian tribe sent from what little they had left after enduring the Trail of Tears. We can ALWAYS Love! ❤️🦋🌀☘️
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yes indeed, thank you for sharing this …”We can always love”
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