secondary trauma

today there was another shooting in america and i wrote this poem about bullets and guns and violence a few weeks ago so it felt necessary to get it out of my system.
_____

they tell me
I dodged a bullet

now thankfully,
you weren't a fatal wound

most of the shrapnel has been removed
but my spirit has not been the same

I see you,
and hear sirens

my body tells me to run,
as fast as it can

away from the carnage,
away from the weapon

but something in me returns
to the scene of the crime

trying to put the pieces back
into some semblance of a whole

convince myself that
its worth the repair

they tell me
i dodged I bullet

I tell them
I've already been shot