bury me in a shirt with names of all my murdered clients

i look across the room to tw0 grown women sobbing

yet another child murdered

i see myself

that will be me in twenty years

still sobbing over dead girls

or maybe at the way the abused turn into the abuser

as the cycle completes itself and the victimized stand trial as the victimizer

or maybe at the twelve year old who is twenty two in 2020 and still in the streets

i worry about my humanity

i told my friend about the murdered girl and she cried

i did not

i have not

my roommate says i still have humanity im just desensitized

she said “you may not mourn the same as others, but you’ll never stop caring”

she’s right

but depravity chips away at my soul

im drowning im drowning

I will die and not see the end of child sexual exploitation

will the next generation work themselves out of a job

or maybe the generation after

will they save all the babies

or is this fight forever

i wonder what harriet tubman or martin luther thought

do you think the leaders of the fight to end slavery in the US wondered if it would never end? do you think they thought freedom wouldn’t come? do you think they held lifeless bodies of humans murdered by other humans and sobbed? do you think they were eaten alive by hopelessness and powerlessness and grief and fear and terror and sorrow and ?

do you think they felt how I feel?

I want harriet tubman to visit me in my dreams and give me hope

i won’t live to see the end of child sex trafficking aka child sex enslavement

mlk died before he saw civil rights

then again so did trayvon and philando and sandra and and and and

they didn’t die they were murdered

by people who didn’t want slavery to end

sometimes I wonder if an exploiter will follow me home

ill be another martyred activist

dont give us holidays

I want freedom for the children

then give them a holiday that celebrates their emancipation

don’t celebrate me. Ever.

at my funeral let my eulogy honor the murdered clients

don’t speak of my accomplishments

speak of how much more work needs to be done

and even if it is 6 feet as long as the 6 feet deep that I am buried:

bury me in a shirt with names of all my murdered clients





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s