I wrote a poem to commemorate the death of my sister.
I wrote of screeching tires,
Burning red bumpers blown across bypasses.
I wrote of freckles and spring breezes and auburn hair.
"You should post this with a trigger warning"
Tumblr user, Jane doe, tells me this.
"I am in a dark place and I didn't want to read this"
"Stuff like this is dangerous and you need to be more careful"
My driving instructor told me the same thing.
I wonder if Rachel was careful.
Which gear was the car in, Rachel?
Did you check your mirrors, Rachel?
Were you supposed to give way, Rachel?
Do you remember my last "I love you"?
My life has no trigger warning.
I searched through burnt memories of things.
I took my past and threw it in the furnace of my memory.
I burnt everything, flames tore into my demons,
Infernos grew out of his favourite books,
Embers sizzled in his tshirt,
Fires gleamed in the way he pushed me and when he...
"When you're scared and alone just know I'm already home"
Our song comes on shuffle.
But there was no trigger warning.
Jane doe should I write to a great big world?
Do they know how to start their songs?
"Hey Ross, trigger warning for the time he assaulted you"
Their album "is anybody out there?"
Is that a mockery of my cry for help?
The blue colours a collage of my tears?
Where was my trigger warning?
Life has no trigger warning.
We walk around and bad people do bad things.
The devil walks pedestrian streets,
Wearing a mini skirt or a hype top.
And they are not trigger warnings.
We choke on the words we cannot say.
That we cannot scream.
The Devil's blood never tasted so bitter
as I bite through my lips to stop the tears.
I'm sorry that I won't give you a trigger warning,
But I'm not the one holding the gun
So, are you going to shoot?