(in honor of the lost in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting...)
There is a part of my body
That creaks
When the first shots ring out.
There is a crack that gapes
Deep inside me,
Quakes beneath the stare
of pure stealing furtive glances
at the clock.
Tell me.
What is the best way
To kill time?
My body has too many lonely tick marks
And I’m not sure I’m ready to talk
Just yet.
When we realized our cheeks were wet,
We coyoted to one another,
Sensationalizing our own grief
Gritting our sensibilities in disbelief.
There is a part of my body
That stopped working
When those shots rang out.
At the same time,
It scribbled love letters
All over the walls of my lungs
To every one of their stolen breaths
Your deaths
Came off the page,
Origami’d in our heads,
Little bits of paper
Freshly green from heartbroken trees.
If the leaves do not come back this spring,
We will understand.
We will know that
The roots are not taking in water,
They are too busy pouring out
unopened Christmas presents,
Unsung birthday songs,
And understanding
That will never come.
I cannot jackrabbit away
Fast enough
To see this undone.
None of us can.
None of us will.
