I feel it. I know you feel it, too. 
Your voice hoarse from screaming at the injustice, your eyes bleary from sleepless nights, your tear ducts tired of producing tears. The weight hangs on your shoulders, heavy and ceaseless. It would be easy to just focus on something else. Change the subject. Maybe then this won’t hurt so much. Maybe then, it would be easier to just…breathe.

But, nothing has changed. The other three officers are still free. Derek Chauvin has not been convicted. 

We can’t talk about something else.

I feel it. I know you feel it, too. 
The fever is slightly abating. The weekend is over. People have to go back to work and some, to summer classes. Protesting is no longer “fun.” (Some) Influencers with large online platforms have put up their obligatory #blacklivesmatter post. It’s time to move on.
The naysayers are getting happier, their tweets more vicious, because they predicted this, that things would eventually return to “normal.”

But they can’t. Something has to change. We can’t talk about something else.