Safety

Guns and broken hearts,
emptiness
emptied.
Blood calls from the ground of a haunted Friday.
You did it.

A dark part understands.
I was once there with a rifle of my own.
You lived in a glass kingdom and
everyone around you seemed to have a stone.
Your fragility
in brokenness
took
the
fall.

And we suffer as you did.
Or maybe it’s selfish to say our hurt is equal
because my ache will stop.
But for you,
love was the safety you just didn’t know how to push.