There shouldn’t be language for this
Words should resist being applied to this violence
Just like babies don’t have words for gunshot
She says she heard a boom
She didn’t know the right word
Little ones ended before they could learn
The word shooter, the word senseless
They all fall down, off of bikes and trees
And then what? Fingers red with paint
With blood, crawling again
When mothers are still needed for tying shoes
They shouldn’t be needed for these wounds
There shouldn’t be a need for this kind of language
Leave me speechless and blank
Unfinished Grimm tales and Christmas cards
A bed empty
Presents for children that believed without a doubt
In happy endings
Are ended
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