This is a poem

This is a poem about guns
this is a poem about guns
this is another poem about guns.

This
is a poem about the perpetrator
this is a poem about the perpetrator
this is another poem about the perpetrator
this
is another perpetrator.

This is a poem about the victims
this is a poem about the victims
this is another poem about the victims
turned heroes
but still victims.

This
is a poem about the right to bear arms
about children
being shot in the arms
in the back
in the head
this
this is a poem about the dead
this is another poem about the dead.

This
is a poem about the survivors
about surviving
about needing to survive
about being trained to hide
this is a poem about desks
chairs
covered windows
this is
a lock down
this is a poem about another lock down.

This is a poem about the Second Amendment
the right to bear arms
responsible gun owners
this is poem about guns being locked in safe
about teaching your kids
this is a poem about those kids
killing kids.
This is a poem
that says fuck the Second Amendment.

A poem
about thoughts and prayers
about condolences.

This is a poem about
“the problem,”
parents
media
violence
bullying
silence
this is a poem about mental health
about a nation gone mental
God
has been crying over our thoughts and prayers
God no longer grants us condolences
as he watches us choose bullets over lives
See God
has grown numb to the death count
our generation has grown numb to the death count
this
is a poem about being numb
until it’s close enough
Colorado
is always close enough
and this is only a poem
to create some distance.

A poem about my generation
raised on Columbine
watered
by Virginia Tech
grown in Aurora
fertilized by Sandy Hook
sun bathed in Las Vegas
blossoming in Boulder
this is a poem about my generation
deciding not to have kids
saying this isn’t a world I want to raise them in
meaning
this isn’t the way I want to bury them.
This is a poem about my generation
burying them.