I didn’t notice the silence

or the ringing in my ears

I’m shaking

keeping my fist stiff

a walk in a dark alley

The bullets bury themselves alive

in the minds of thoughtful youths

Blankets are still warm

there’s cotton on my hair

romantic anniversary of poverty

The concrete is hard

walls don’t move

and everywhere I see

the windows are broken

Forgive me that I didn’t notice

I was too busy focusing

on breathing

or stretching my thoughts

into shapes

that only my dreams can interpret