You shoot me because you are scared.

Draped in a uniform of authority

Armed with a gun and reinforcements

Power in a twitch of an index finger;

You are scared of me.

You choose the bullet over backup.

I sit strapped in the passenger seat;

A child’s innocence shattering in the back.

Your gun is drawn,

But you are scared of me.

Even after the bullets fly,

I terrify you.

In you, I evoke a rush of terrible emotions,

Even before I can remove the safety belt.

These straps weren’t designed

To protect from this kind of impact.

From me, you soothe your conscience

Retreating to a narrative that restores your virtue.

I bleed out in the car,

Yet you curse me.

I bear the brunt of your bullets

And your blame.

You have not yet realized,

That you will not be punished.

Forgetting that your badge of honor

Will shield you from accountability.

You will not be asked  

To take responsibility for a black life

You are a man sworn to an oath

To protect and serve.

To protect you from you fear

And to serve a reminder

Of my place in society.