Entry 57: Breonna Taylor

AccidentalPerfectionistBlog
I clean up the dishes from dinner, wipe down the counter top.  
I tell Ken that I’m heading to sleep.  
I brush my teeth, change out of my clothes, and get into my bed.  
I think about the next day - it’ll be a busy one.  
It’s been busy on the ambulance - the pandemic is starting to hit us in Louisville, 
and we have a lot of elderly who are at risk.  
I love my job, and know it is important work, especially now.  
Ken gets into bed awhile later, kisses me and we go to sleep.  

In the middle of the night, I awake, startled, by thundering noises, 
it sounds like a train coming through my front door.  
Someone breaks down the door.  What is that? I ask Ken.  I hear foot steps.  
Are we being robbed?  Are they going to kill us?  
Ken grabs his gun, he fires shots at the door.  
They return fire. I don’t know how many times.  
Eight of the bullets hit me.  
I am dead.  

I find out later, 
That they were police who 
Shot and killed me.  
Police who broke down my door. 
Police who forced entry into my house 
In the middle of the night 
Without showing a warrant, 
Without reading us our rights.  
In the middle of the night.
In my house.
I did not resist a warrant.
I did not resist arrest.
I was asleep 
At my home 
In the middle of the night.
At my home
In the middle of the night.

In memory of Breonna Taylor (1994-2020)


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