Broken

Published June 18, 2015 by hrhdana

Literally paralyzed by grief
Tears sting
Can’t see.
On my way to work
No peace.
Bus comes
Can’t move
Not safe
What do I do?
He sat in church and prayed
Watched little kids play
Said amen
Heard the Word
Then opened fire.

I can imagine the confusion
The
screaming
begging
pleading.
He reloads.
No soul.

Little girl plays dead
Five years old.
How did she know?
I can’t stop crying
Don’t ask me to
Unreasonable

Bus comes 30 minutes later.
I rise
Wet eyes
Board a bus
Full of us
The only place I’ll hear our grief today.

Broken

1

Talk to me.