Unprayer for Uvalde

I will not be writing a gentle prayer today
The words pour forth 
from the bloody ink of my pen
There is no song of comfort 
adequate enough
to drown out the echoes 
of dead children’s laughter 
 
America is a stain 
that cannot be scrubbed clean
There is no cure
for such blackened souls 
that walk amongst us, festering like a wound, infecting us all
 
America, we are rotting from within
and there is no cure for our disease 
America, we are wounded and wounding 
Oh beautiful, for spacious skies
What love can you rain down for those of us here on the ground? 
 
Oh Holy one whose liminality surrounds us 
How can you be everywhere all at once 
and nowhere when we need you the most? 
No, I will not be writing a gentle prayer today
 
I am tired of praying to a silent God
I am tired of moving forward when all I want to do is stand in one place
and scream
I am tired of marching for change 
when things only seem to get worse
Most days, I am just simply tired
 
We have gone on when we should have stopped and mourned
Flags should fly at half mast every day
There is no such thing as
business as usual
When we go back to “normal”
just what is it we are supposed to be getting back to?
 
Childhood should be a time for magic
A time for bare feet in tall grasses, 
for play and discovery, for being carefree 
Instead, bullets have shattered 
the land of make believe 
and our smallest, most precious ones 
are caught in a trauma loop 
managing fears they shouldn’t even 
have to imagine, let alone experience 
While we bear silent witness 
helpless 
unable to do what must be done 
to save us all

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