That Spring in 1994

Written in 2012--originally published to For Unofficial Use Only.

In the spring and summer of 1994, I was 15 years old and a freshman at Bedford High School in Massachusetts.   Searching my memory of that period, I can't recall even a quick polaroid recollection concerning almost a million people's murder.  

That spring

I remember working as a bagger at the grocery store on Hanscomb Air Force Base.  
I remember fleeing the base theatre with my friend CJ after we lit up cigars during a movie. 
I remember the field where I would play soccer by my school.

What I can recall

I close my eyes and I can smell the dusty paper of the grocery bags.
I close my eyes and I can feel my heart racing as we were chased out of the theatre.
I close my eyes and I can see the long and overgrown green grass of the soccer field.

That same spring

Nearly a million people's last breath and smell was rotten and rife with sweat, urine, and blood.
Murderers crushed and ripped apart nearly a million hearts.
Murderers smashed shut nearly a million sets of eyes.  

That same spring

Millions of people 


And millions of people did


                                                 Especially today.

I trudge with the grief of my own ignorance like a iron yoke on the shoulders of my soul.  


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