Hello & Happy Father’s Day! This week I wrote a poem following up the piece I wrote about the Orlando Shooting. I will link the article on the bottom for those who haven’t seen it yet! But in all seriousness, I wrote this with a heavy heart and I don’t think there’s any other way to talk about this than with a poem. – TheTypewriterBleeds
To the 49 Beautiful Stomachs of Orlando
Put the gun on my stomach.
I want to feel the warmth
Of the power to kill
Radiate into me.
What power can rot
49 Beautiful Stomachs,
pierced by a weapon meant for war —
Have you seen the blood flowing like summer wine,
on a night that used to be theirs?
the poison spread from
the root of his gut,
to his most fragile organ,
like a burnt Christmas tree.
How does it feel
when you hold
the power to watch
a man, a woman,
a friend, a sibling,
fall with their eyes wide opened
in a place they thought was home?
I want to feel
where dangerous words never go.
My hunger for change is a mixture of
cheap alcohol and toasted peanuts
Splattered across washrooms, Dance-floors;
Dripped between the cracks of a free country,
as free as humans can ever be.
So put the gun on my stomach–
I want to feel enough so I’ll never forget.
49 Beautiful Stomaches,