http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/08/05/pennsylvania.gym.shooting/index.html
story upset me and broke my heart from all sides.
and everyone gets mad at the shooter. which makes sense. its fucked up. and unnecessary.
but there is a story behind every tragedy.
to be loved
dear george,
i know those nights killed you
when you stayed at home eating
stale popcorn watching cinemax
movies on demand your ears ringing
from the sounds of lustful love stories
that you could never really identify with
were you that guy in the locker room
when all the other boys traded
stories about their manhood around like
baseball cards that just nodded
smiled and threw in a
'me too' every once in awhile
you wanted to have what they did
you wanted to bleach your shirts clean
from lipstick prints around the collar and take
her on a cruise of the allegheny navigating
her curves as the boat swayed back and forth
back and forth
but for whatever reason, you weren't
that guy
an invisible man with a somber spirit
and you spent your days masturbating
to your digital desires
ejaculating dreams of what you'd never be
all over your computer screen
that was the only way they'd ever manifest
into something tangible but they too
you wiped clean and threw away
and i wonder when you blogged about
your existence
in morbid details about
your depression
and your plans to detonate danger
into the core of my birthplace
did anybody hear you
is the blogosphere so vast that your screams
were met by mere echoes and echoes
did someone stumble upon it one night
dismiss it as a ranting of another
lonely tortured soul
and kept browsing
i wonder if when you
walked into the gym last night
you felt like a convoluted Cupid
inserting angered arrows
and broken hearted bullets
into unassuming women who
would never love you
did you peak in ecstasy when
every woman in the room
had their eyes on you
for the first
and last time in your life
did you feel like a bachelor
did you feel like a player
did you feel like a Romeo when
they were sprawled in odd angles
like fallen angels
before your feet did you think that
blowing her chest cavity away
would be the only way a woman
would bare her heart to you
and when you put the final bullet
into your head did you find solace
that three women
with loves of their own
waiting at home
succumbed to your piercings
of unrequited love
and died for you
was it worth it, george,
to rip a city into pieces
your family up in arms
their families in rapture
for you to finally taste
what it might be like
to be loved
