I have heard of the atrocities on both sides before, how my blue kin kill their black

And how some respond to change our hue to crimson.

In the sweltering heat of this summer day, I had not imagined seeing the worst of it:

Blood spilling from my own leg wound, it gushing from the chests of my fellow officers in fizzing sounds further along Main Street.

I can’t decide if I was lucky because surviving meant seeing the others die in front of me. I am ashamed to have added nothing.

Here we were to protect them, those who protested against us and our shortcomings, only to see that we would all become victims, worthless, adrenaline-ridden puppets of shock with horror stinging in our eyes more than tears did.

I sit here now, grasping the sheets furiously in my hospital bed while I watch the news, wanting to fix it all, wipe out all the ignorant hate, and knowing that I can’t…

…I drift grieving off into turbulent, nightmarish sleep where I am forced to relive and remember the brothers of mine who fell in Dallas.