A Letter from the Backseat

Philando Castille

Dear Sir,


I don’t really know your name, but I just remember that that’s what my mommy called you.

You don’t really know my face, but know that you are the reason my mother has taught me lullabies to the rhythm of gunshots.

So that the next time her boyfriend’s kin dies,

Or more like the next time when her boyfriend’s skin dies, I will still be able to sleep.

I will learn to cuddle with the monsters under the bed if that will keep me safe from the monsters under the shield.

Mommy says that even though sleep black people never get to rest easy, the woke ones tend to rest a little bit

too quickly.

She says she doesn’t want that for me.

She says that my black skin tends to act as blankets to keep the pavement warm.

I asked her if she remembers when he, Philando Castille, used to keep me warm.

I asked her if she remembers days when the sun melted into his melanin used to hold me tight.

I asked her if she remembers days when his blood flowed through his veins like a raging river,

If she remembers a time before his blood trickled onto the streets like spilled milk that you, Sir, will never cry over.

I asked if she remembers how grandma used tell him to be Toby because Kunta is reasonable enough cause to shoot.

I reminded her that he was Toby.

I asked her why you still shot.

Why did you shoot Sir?

Why did you continue to shoot?

Why are black bodies used as target practice?

My racist friends say that tar gets cold too.

Tar lives matter also.

I told you, that my father’s skin tends to act as a blanket to keep the pavement warm.

Why are black bodies used as target practice?

Mommy tells me that it is starlet practice, this is how white cops become famous and black men become hashtags.

Why are black bodies used as target practice?

You said that you wanted to see how far he could get after bullet kisses rib cage.

How much you can make me regret my skin black as tar,

Make me realize how quickly I can blend into the streets,

How quickly I can be removed from my mother’s sheets,

Teach my feet to dance to the beat of gunshots,

Before I become martyr, just for the news to call me mortar postmortem,

Only used to hold bricks.

Thought to pick pockets and rob wallets

You say, you were just checking to see if his skin was thick.

You sir are the thermometer that tells me that Amerikkka is sick.

You are the dangerous place where cop meets criminal,

Where my hope becomes cynical,

Where murder becomes penial.

The scary place where home-grown terrorists wear badges.

-The 4 year old Ms. Reynolds

Related Posts

A young visionary. In spite of talents and passions in a plethora of areas, I have a singular mission in life. Helping people whether be physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually, is the totality of my life's mission. Nothing more. My purpose, however is to fulfill this mission primarily through medicine. But I do not want to stop at medicine. I want to use my words in all areas of my life to help people. My blog at www.wildextremities.com is one of the main ways for me to accomplish this goal. On this blog I help people to daily find beauty in the wild extremities of their souls where sun rarely shines, yet beauty blossoms full.


  1. You are a beautiful writer. I too, am pained by the ongoing racial issues in our country. I stand by the BLM movement, I understand why it is necessary. I only wish that they would be more welcoming for white empathizers like myself. No, I will never “understand” by way of experience, but I can certainly empathize, and I can certainly try. I want so badly for us all to find a solution… together. <3 I think there are about a dozen underlying issues remaining from the days of segregation that need addressed before we can expect a cultural shift. I wish so badly that this election had included a strong black politician, we need one's input and representation now more than ever.

    1. Thank you so much! I have so much respect for everything you’ve said. Keep standing by your conscience. I think that black people in this country have had to be on the defensive for so long that it’s lead to a constant state of near paranoia. People will question your motives, but never take that personally. It’s simply an artifact of dealing with decades of hidden agendas along with the precipitation of underlying biases. You may have none of these things, but enough whites have had them to make it a little rough on everyone. Keep up the good vibes girl!


Leave a Reply

Become a Wild One Today!

Love growing? Love poetry?

We have some dope content over here at Wild Extremities that you won’t want to miss! Enter your email below and you’ll never have to miss another post!

%d bloggers like this: