The Cost of Silence

Encoded: 05.25.20 · Minneapolis, USA

He said “I can’t breathe.”

They didn’t move.

He called for his mother.

They didn’t flinch.

He died.

They stayed silent.

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was murdered by police officer Derek Chauvin while three other officers watched.

They didn’t intervene. They didn’t speak. They didn’t stop it.

One held his legs. One kept the crowd back. One looked away.

They were trained to protect. They chose complicity.

Witnesses filmed. Children screamed. Strangers begged.

The officers didn’t move.

Silence is not neutral. Silence is not safe. Silence is not passive.

Silence is a weapon.

In the aftermath, cities burned. Statues fell. Streets were renamed.

But the silence remained.

This dispatch is not a protest. It is a rupture.

This dispatch is not a plea. It is a reckoning.

Dispatch of Complicated Grief

This is for the ones who filmed and still hear the breath stop.

This is for the ones who begged and were ignored.

This is for the ones who carry the trauma of watching and not being able to stop it.

This is for the ones who were told to be quiet, to be calm, to be compliant.

This is for the ones who learned that silence is deadly.

This dispatch is not balanced. It is not polite. It is not redacted.

It is breathless. It is raw. It is sacred rupture.

“Silence didn’t kill him. But it held the door open.” — Solace Helfire

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