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when i hear gunshots outside by md wheatley


when i hear gunshots outside
i don’t run
or bury my head in the pillow
i don’t regret a thing
or imagine how things could have been different
i don’t lament you
or examine the entry and exit wounds
i don’t imagine what you’d look like now
or even for a second think of your widow’s peak
i don’t obsess over memories
or whether or not the snakes were real
i don’t hide from the hurricane
or ever let go of my mother’s hand
i don’t flush the scratched cd’s
or listen to galapagos on repeat
i don’t palpate the tailgate
or leave the garage door open all nite
i don’t brush my teeth in the morning
or consider putting my pop-tarts in the toaster
i don’t make a peep
or blame you for flipping the four-wheeler over
i don’t break up the fight
or cover the hole in the wall with a skate poster

when i hear gunshots outside
i recite a prayer
or think of a prayer

that makes me feel less alone

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