I am alive by luck at this point.
I wonder if the gun that will eventually take me has been made.
Whose trigger will bury me.
How many bullets, like a flock of sparrows, will come carry my life to its final bed.
Today, I am alive but there is no law to thank.
If not me, then someone else.
Born into a game of chance we never asked for. Traded diplomas for obituaries. Traded graduation speeches for eulogies. Traded futures for an early grave. Forced to cash in their chips. We don’t want to play anymore.
And this too is eulogy. And this too is prayer. And this too can resurrect the coffin wood back to a tree. Can sing back alive whatever parts of you died with them. Whatever leapt in your throat at yet another headline.
Mourning until you, too, are a thing to mourn.
But we will no longer be martyrs.
We are the rude awakening to politicians who pawned out our safety, who bartered our lives for bribes.
You say “gun reform is not the answer” but all I can see is a bullet rattling like a pinball in an innocent student’s jaw.
You smell like gun smoke and
I can see the AR15 you're holding behind your back and
I guess it's easy to crack jokes about dodging bullets when you're the one firing them.
Give teachers books not bullets:
Kafka isn’t kevlar.
Bronte isn’t bulletproof.
And how sick is it that we must add school shootings to your list of proud american traditions.
Throwing opinions like punches.
How many more have to die before you decide your ego isn’t as important as you think it is?
And I, too, am buried alive
My soggy grave parting its greedy lips.
To you, my bones, when ground into gunpowder and mixed into water, taste like champagne.
My pulse, as thin as an obituary panting beneath sweaty palms, and sure
We are “just kids,”
But you are forgetting we are the next generation
And you autopsy your fists.
Call it reclamatory.
Lately, when asked “how are you?” I respond with a name no longer living.
And who knows if mine will be next

i wanted to call this poem

"if this is fate than put a gun in my mouth"

feels a bit excessive
even for me.

and im the most extra ***** ive ever met.

i rarely have **** to say when i write.
ive rewritten the same feeling a thousand times.
i only know so many synonyms for heartbreak
and im running out.

the star of all this angsty literature
is far away for the moment.
across the country.
but ill be home soon
to watch her graduate (im still a kid and so is she)

i went very far away from home for a lot of reasons.
admittedly, she was one of them.
when i met her
she told me she'd never be able to afford to leave.

well good news.

next year she'll be an hour away.

i think i live in a chinese finger trap
or the ******* matrix.
the harder i pull
the faster the walls cave in.
the **** i try and leave behind
gets to where im going before i do.

i believe in love too much to ever **** it.
even if that means i have to watch it die slow in my hands
and listen to it shriek out in pain.

id rather die than give up on love
and from what i remember
thats what we call hamartia.

i could fall in love with a sword through my heart
if it was nice enough to me.
and maybe if she were holding it,
it wouldnt even hurt.

How similar
we are
antonym is
turned into
the antidote
to the decaying
synonym.

There are only
two outcomes
out of this similarity;

burst of the sun
or a flower off the gun.

Political troops, Red warriors in suits
Corruption his weapon, The people his boots
Armored by lies and malevolent truths,
The fiend revealed by his conspiracal tooth.
In his greed indulging in the forbidden fruit,
devouring all in the political soup.
Mistreated minority's, disgruntled youth
How long will we ignore the truth?

Seventeen,
Seventeen,
Glean the knowledge from the scene;
A tale written, read before,
Something's wrong, but something more --
Fear the nightmare, fear the dream,
Nothing stops at this machine;

Grasping rule yet leading blind,
Law will bind no bleeding mind
Intent on death, and peddled lines
Stray from course to fell the fruits,
As Red *** seeps through poisoned roots.

Mockingbird, mockingbird,
Tell me all the things you've heard...
They don't like it, so I like it,
I am like the mockingbird.

FINALLY THE YOUTH OF AMERICA
ARE USING THEIR VOICE
STOP THE GUNS KILLING US
PRESIDENT TRUMP YOU HAVE A CHOICE



PLEASE LISTEN TO US
WE MEAN WHAT WE SAY
GUNS ARE KILLING OUR FRIENDS
FOR WE CAN VOTE ONE DAY



STOP THE GUNS STOP THE KILLINGS
GET TUFF AND STAND UP FOR US
FOR IF YOU DON'T WE WILL VOTE YOU OUT
A CREATE A LOT OF FUSS


STOP THE GUNS STOP THE KILLINGS
"IF YOU DON'T STAND FOR SOMETHING
YOU WILL FALL FOR EVERYTHING"