Post-Explosion
In the technological storm that follows
any tragedy – the hails of texts
and calls please tell me you’re safe and
statuses my heart goes out to and news
segments on televisions at the gym,
the mall, blood-soaked
streets played on repeat,
all carnage and no causation on repeat,
repeat, repeat –
you should know –
You can look away.
You can turn off the screens.
You can cry without telling anyone.
You can show up unannounced
at the door of a good friend.
You can look away.
You are not careless
for taking your eyes off of the gruesome fanfare.
You are not uncaring
for resisting being swallowed in a virtual sorrow machine.
You are allowed
each and every action
that brings you closer to your humanity
and takes you away from a grief
that will warp your gentleness
into something hardened and bitter.
These days poison our marrow.
They inflict the worst kind of disbelief
that cracks through everything we hold close.
Crumbled people have given up on rebuilding
even as tools rust in their limp hands.
Do not give up on your pulse song.
Turn off the screen
if it keeps you from turning off your light.
Let your heart go out to others
and then let it come back to you.
Rebuild when you are ready.
Start with the faith in your chest.
Start with yourself.