Every second of my life I am now suddenly engulfed with the fear that

somehow I had been invisble to every person I have ever come across

the whole entire time.

 

My body continues to physically ache in fear as more missing person flyers start 

to resemble me.

 

My heart continues to sink as more Black families are still having to do the

jobs of the authorities since we'll still be labled runaways.

 

We'll never be looked at as never good enough to make it on the television screens.

 

And I wonder if the names and stories like Elizabeth Smart will ever ring

as loud as Alexis Peterson. 

 

I wonder if there will be as many documentaries and news specials

for Lauren Smith Fields.

 

I wonder just how many police departments and media outlets left the families 

missing women of color unheard, unseen, and ignored.

 

I wonder if I'll ever be worth searching for,

 

If I'll be worth fighting for,

 

If I'll ever be worth the same breath into life as the thousands of missing white children and 

women posted up outside stores, on bilboards and the television screens.

 

But I have now learned that

 

No one makes a sound, no one is in outrage, no one is in outcry, it’s just me, and I realize that it will always just be me, 

 

It will always be the families of missing and murdered Black girls and women trying to search after a source of humanity that will never be open to and allowed for Black girls.

 

But my hand is in yours, promising to not get any rest until justice is brought to you, your honor, your name and to every little black girl and woman that looks like you.