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Oct 2017
I remember that maroon shirt
A size too large so it hung like a sack
Over my twiggy, seven year old limbs
It was rough and scratchy against my belly
I absolutely hated the color
I was one for turquoise and scarlet and sparkles
This was a cloth of rusty mud, it was purple gone terribly wrong

Of course I protested
Whining at my mother like a cub at her lioness
Why should I have to wear this ugly thing
That you brought yesterday for no reason at all

And then you said there was a reason
In that quiet, somber way you get when you homilize to me
That tone that makes me scared enough to flatten my unruly hair

It was the first time I heard the words
Mass Shooting
But it was far from the last

I went to school that day
I tried to tell the others
Some had heard a snippet or two from mom and dad
Before being sent out of the room
But most just looked at me like I had a third eyeball in my head
They shrugged it off and went back to foursquare
They never gave a **** about the news if it wasn't Charlie Brown
And they never really talked to me more than they needed to

The grownups hurried us all along
Avoiding all mention
Of Virginia Tech
And they would nod and turn away when I told them
How was I to know that they didn't have any answers either

I sat on the swingset
The cyan dome that seemed so familiar in its vast vacancy
Was now so empty and abandoning
The bark chips were suddenly silent
In juxtaposition to my mind

I mouthed out the words
A feeling in my mouth like a jawbreaker too large to fit it but crammed in anyways
I didn't have the words for it then

How could someone do that?
How could someone just walk up
With a special stick and some bullets
And end twenty six lives
Like they were swatting at flies
And how could everyone
Be so calm and carefree
When so much harm had come
When so much blood ran
Turning to a rust color in my mind
Like that god-awful shirt

The day was done
I threw the shirt in a bottom drawer
I never wore a maroon thing again until I was thirteen
I felt glad to be rid of that jawbreaker
And the strange feelings in my gut and neck

But it was not over
None of us were rid of it

Aurora
Sandy Hook
Breaking News: Mass Shooting
San Bernardino
Pulse
Breaking News: Mass Shooting

Guys, one of our competitor's teamates was killed
It was a ******-suicide by his father on him and his mother
So please be considerate


Good God, how many has it been
When did it begin
What should we do
And how did I get so numb
To my semiannual jawbreaker moments

But all I hear is
Who do we blame?

The foreign ones?
Let's blockade them
Because it's not like we were ever that way

Maybe the ones with ****** up minds?
Yeah, they're the violent ones
It cuts me deeper than any work of my own blades

But god and the NRA forbid
That we have shootings
Because we have the means to
That we have a radicals in the U.S.
And they only came from us
But when has policy ever made sense?

All I know is
That we can't keep going numb
To the jawbreakers in our mouths
Sorry, it's a bit long. I just wanted to type something out.
Breeze-Mist
Written by
Breeze-Mist  19/F/North America
(19/F/North America)   
537
     Jamadhi Verse and rose
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