We look up the weedy slopes

of Capitol Hill with glazed eyes

well-rehearsed speeches

echoing

hollower than the halls of our schools.

Each word,

stale like dust

we taste

bite

spit them back out.

"You are never alone."

You big names,

who told us you would protect us.

get down from your gold-backed chairs

and take the words you fed us.

We won’t suck

on your gilded spoon.

You would be content

to sweep our blood

our tears beneath a rug.

To plug bullet holes

with wads of cotton.

To see us snuffed out.

But we will not let you.

We are alone.

We hold vigils by the light

of our screens,

buzzing

with anguish.

We grab you

by your neckties

and force you

finally

To Look.