Tears scar
my fevered
red face
as I rage
against
these
unites states.

Pillars of pain
pushed to the point
of bullets and
blood stained
t-shirts.

To young,
to run
far enough
away
that day,

Now politicians
send thoughts and
prayers
but that is
much too little
to even be late.

The media
garners
silent stares
of inaction
while anonymous
internet commenters
call grieving parents
crisis actors.

facebook posts
of dividing positions
put friends in
combative opposition.

I would like
to be fair and neutral,
but the roots
run red and deep
as this dark sea of grief
rises from its sedated state.

So,
I keep on asking
how many more children
have to die
before people do
something right.

"Breathe,"
They call to me.

"Stay calm."
They whisper softly.

I can hear their tears
As they say,
"Remember to pray."*

And we should be angry.
We shouldn't be offering our sympathy
To the one that stole,
To the one that offered up his soul
For the taste of iron and gunpowder
For the taste of blood,
For the sake of leaving innocents
Six feet under tear-stained mud.

It isn't our weapons.
No, with the right morals and the right lessons,
It wouldn't be a problem.

It wasn't mental illness.
Trust me, please,
I know.
This is more than my business.

I know about trauma, I know about pain.
I know how it feels to have a curse become your name.

But we all have a choice,
We all make that decision,
For whether it will be our light or our dark that we choose to imprison.

He chose to use his pain,
To blend with his hatred.
He became his own darkness,
And that can never be forgiven.

Hey y’all, in the wake of the recent tragedy we faced and the number of innocent lives lost in the process and also the countless number of children who take their lives everyday, I wrote a poem about how it would be if the children could come back to their parents for one day. Let me know what y’all think.

“The River”

Earth, broken and dry, looks up to the sky, and suddenly it starts to rain.
Rivers that dried up so long ago, now start to flow again.

From the currents rise those who were long gone; the waters give birth to the slain.
Families line up at the banks to see their kin once again.

The parents bring towels and hugs that never end,
The families open their baskets and have a picnic at the river’s bend.

“I made your favorite dish,” says the mother, “we eat it everyday.”
“We leave a plate for you” the father says, “just in case you come back someday.”

Brothers and sisters, fractions of their former selves, feel whole once again.
“I’ll let you have anything you want! I’ll share! Just don’t leave us ever again!”

Poor children think that they can bargain, but they just can’t make them stay.
Families watch as they leave: the children of yesterday.

The waters that once ran in the rivers, now flow elsewhere.

Is this what you wanted,
what you imagined
the day those wedding bells rang?

Where is the man I fell in love with?
I miss the magic.
I miss the days when my heart sang.


-

We said we'd keep our love alive.
Our flame would never die.
Forget the world. Just you and I.

We told the doubters they were wrong.
Every day we'd sing our song of love.
I haven't heard it for so long.

- -

Through tear filled eyes,
beneath the sound of slamming doors.
I still see and hear the echoes
of the day you made me yours.

So tonight I make myself look pretty,
put on that dress you bought me,
try to remember all the
lessons that you've taught me.

I sit and watch the clock
til I hear your key turn in the lock.
Outside I hear the rain.
You smell like her again.

This food is cold! You say.
The candle's burned away.
You've got that anger in your eyes.
I try to fight the urge to cry.

- -

This isn't what I wanted,
what I imagined
the day those wedding bells rang.

You're not the man I fell in love with!
I miss the magic.
I miss the days when my heart sang.

-

Then comes the thunder and the lights go out.
Over the ringing in my ears
I hear our daughter shout my name.

I try to stand but it's too much for me.
Through the pain and tears
I look up to see you leave again.

- -

Jessie doesn't understand.
I try to tell her it's ok.
I take her by the hand.
Let's get your toys so we can play.

Why's Daddy angry Mummy?
Is it something I did wrong?
No. No, it's not you honey.
Come now, let's sing your favourite song.

I should've seen the signs
I should've listened when they told me.
All the times
you used to put me down and scold me.

I tried to walk away
but every time we had the talk.
You always had something to say
or made it out to be my fault.

- -

We said we'd keep our love alive.
Our flame would never die.
**** the world! Just you and I.

We told the doubters they were wrong.
Every day we'd sing our song of love.
I haven't heard it for so long.

- -

Someday I'll find the power
to rebuild my tower.
I'll stand tall again.
Find someone to buy me flowers

and Jessie, you'll be all grown up.
You'll be learning about love.
I hope you find that magic
that I've been dreaming of.

Don't ask your Mummy for advice,
for now my heart is cold as ice.
But baby come back for me
if there's still life left in my eyes.

She doesn't understand.
I smile and say she will someday.
She takes me by the hand.
"Let's get my toys so we can play"

/ /

The cotton fluff from your sweater,
is stuck between my bitten down nails.
A symbol left behind from a night,
where my integrity was questioned.

Most of the marks you left are permanently scarred in my brain,
I bet your skin is tingling thinking of my touch;
scratching away at your flesh hastily.
The only reason you had to pull away,
was not because of my mantra that sounded so pleasant in your ears,
It was the pain that you couldn’t take;
though I was suffering a lot more.

You called me names because I was fighting for my safety,
the cruel reminders you hissed flooded my ears,
no one would believe me;
I’ll stay silent.

In darkened alleys and vacant parking lots,
Liminal spaces; an astral plane most physical
Broken bones, raw bruises, and blood clots
This is where I wish to throw the first punch; atypical
And insane, I just want to fight
Scuffed knuckles and bleeding noses, I’ve got some sort of plight
Where hatred turns to violence
Hungry blade in hand and dash of rogue; like a lioness
I’ve got to feed my body’s desire
This disturbing anger burns inside me like your funeral pyre

Poor, little girl with emotions on mute
Dreams and dreams of taking on the world
Come on, take me the **** on, deep down I’m a brute;
Brass knuckle dusters and a switchblade twirled
One look at you and it’s all weapons activated
All this rage facilitated
By the **** I take with a smile
As is the style
Of a lady too scared of dried blood consequences
Who feels too much with all her senses

But with the sun down and midnight rears its ugly head
Where moonlight trickles through tin plated shanties
That’s when the darkness is heavy as lead
In my heart, I feel the turmoil and I become a useless vigilante
Too drunk on violence to care for justice
And I got a lust for us

For us and a good and ****** fight
Just you, me, and my one-sided rage
Let’s knock you out like a ******* light
But maybe if we burn some sage
I’ll be purified of this urge
Because every time I see your pretentious face
I get this despicable desire to purge
You of this plane of existence
But Baby, that’s why you need to learn
Respect me or expect resistance
And deep down I yearn
That you never do
So I’ll be justified
When I get to throw the first punch; beating you black and blue
But just know I tried

I tried to lock up these feelings
Beneath a pretty and innocent smile
When my brain is Hell and I got my reasonings
And you’ll be my first trial
Of anger and violence
Where words fail and I don’t believe in silence
At least not until you’ve screamed
And in the afterlife that you’ve dreamed