Bang!
The blood oozes down
my
chest
like thick maple syrup.
Everything turns into streaks of color
as I became dizzy in an instance.
The screech from the back seat begins to fade away
as my skin becomes slick with sweat.
My chest begins to burn as if the sun
reached out and touched me.
I hope I get justice and not just a hashtag.

What could I have done differently?
I cooperated,
I followed orders,
I only reached for my license.
I wouldn’t have risked it with my child in the car,
but know she is a witness to my murder by a man with blue skin.
He will haunt her dreams and she will never forget.
I hope I get justice and not just a hashtag.

My hearts starts to race
trying to pump what blood is left.
Choking on my blood with each inhale,
metal fills my taste buds.
I loose conscious as my story reaches everlasting oblivion.
I hope I get justice and not just a hashtag.

-Writer X-