in this dream
I live in
all I know
are the lives
of the dying
another one
hundred people
were shot today
and all I can
remember is
being four
and already
knowing how
to listen for
death
learning that
nothing but
violence is
certain
before I knew
how to
tie my shoes
I watch the
politicians
fabricate
their solemn
condolences
thoughts and
prayers
and remember when
I was eight
and buried
a sparrow in
our backyard
how she careened into
our home like an
arrow piercing
a heart
mistaking
plexiglass
for freedom
how the night
suffocated her
cries like silence
stifles injustice
how my wandering
fingers latched
onto her quivering
broken body
and tucked her
into the concrete
like a rose
as yet another round
of bloodstained
legislature
sweeps the floor
I close my eyes to
mourn the sparrow of
my eight-year old self
still hoping for the day
she can be eighty
and unafraid
palm unwrinkled
by tragedy
still marveling
at the feel of
death in her hands
Yuyuan Huang (she/her) is a poet, dreamer, artist, nerd, and everything in between. Her work has previously been published in the Ice Lolly Review and Chinchilla Lit. Yuyuan has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards for poetry since 2020. When she is not writing, she can be found rambling about her newest obsession or listening to Taylor Swift. Yuyuan lives in Boston, MA.