It’s real.
the gun
the blood
the glass
the table
She’s approaching him
thinking he’s who you meant
when you couldn’t say,
the boy with the bloody face,
he has a gun.
You scream her name because
if she gets hurt then
you’ll never forgive yourself
even though it’s
not your fault
you couldn’t say
he has a gun
You don’t scream to her
he has a gun
because he could use it
to silence me,
then her.
And what if you’re wrong
and it wasn’t real
the gun, glass, blood, table.
Left foot crackles in
the glass
Right foot lands on
the table
walk with purpose to the corner of
the hall.
You can see her
Through two windows, the way the hall turns twice
a safe distance because
she’s next to him
talking and then running.
he has a gun
and we’re sprinting.
Right foot in
the glass
Left foot through
the blood.
Open the door, you were
here minutes ago to ask
the boy on the floor, did
he come through
Where Did He Go
Now,
Turn Off The Music
calm voice
Sit Down
they know already
how to do this
He Has a Gun
lock the doors
close the blinds
It was packed in here only minutes ago
and now they are as small as
they can muster
sisters holding each other
where is my sister
lights are out
do you need water
sitting in tomorrow’s mess trying
not to think how long
you may have to sit
here, and what you might find
on the other side of that door.
Mom, I am safe
Mollie is safe
Hannah is safe
Hig is safe
my friends are safe
my team is safe
I saw him Mama
he has a gun.
One minute on the phone.
It all happened in
one minute, the boy with the bloody face,
Gun.
& walking home,
the sun is peeking out
glowing softly and
by the time you’ve
washed your face
brushed your teeth
changed out of your clothes
the sun is up
painting the sky
pink
orange
purple
Sleep now
wake up only a couple hours later
and remember
It’s real
the table
the glass
the blood
the gun
Welcome
to the rest of your life
to America.
~Maddy Perfetti `23
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