Someday I’ll have to ease up, remove my feet off the necks of those who didn’t believe me , re-introduce myself to the ones who couldnt, reclaim the throne for the ones who won’t , say my name ...right, And for the ones who don’t, Toe tag em, leave em where they don’t bag em,…

“I cannot breathe! I cannot breathe,” a black man, George Floyd shouted as a Minneapolis police officer pinned his knee in place on his neck.

I debated back and forth between calling this "Getting Boned" and "Caravaggio's Wet Dream" for so long that I just ended up giving it a serious title instead. Follow me on Instagram to see daily updates: @alexbstoddard

Breathing is so universal and continuous that it can be easy to forget about—until we can’t do it anymore. Then it becomes symbolic of life itself. We take special note of words that are carried on final breaths, and sometimes we even cherish the physical substance of the breaths themselves.