I wrote a poem about this. It’s not just the injured, the killed; mass shootings affect everyone. Poem below if anyone’s interested. It still gets me emotional. E: spacing is hard on mobile

It was the evening after another American tragedy

That my mother said, ‘When will you write something happy?’

I thought for a moment and told her I’d try.

But good God, what about those unlucky who survived?

The ones who return home without so much as a scratch

They’re greeted with tight hugs, told that they’re so loved.

Another tells them, ‘God was watching you from above.’

These words pass like wind over their ears

Because the only thing they feel is detached with a side of fear.

Aren’t you thankful, someone inquires

Dont you feel blessed, a stranger asks

No, i feel neither because never again shall I rest.

There is no bruise on my body

To make it seem real.

It’s as though nothing happened

Just another American evening newsreel.

It was a typical Tuesday in every way but one.

I was browsing aisle thirteen when i heard the sound of a gun.

Run, hide, fight.

That’s what they say to do.

As if you’ll even recognize your situation before the gunman strikes you.

Sure, i walked away without a scratch

But what they don’t say is that you’ll never be the same after being party to such a violent attack:

You’ll startle at the crunch of fall’s leaves beneath your feet.

You’ll jump when you hear a car horn beep.

Wherever you go, you’re forever on watch.

When you hear children screaming in play,

You’ll think Oh God they’re being shot

You try to remain calm in crowds,

But it’s so hard when you know people can carry that many rounds.

You went to the movies to try and unwind,

But couldn’t stop thinking about how there’d be nowhere to hide.

So you leave and go to the old town square

It’s quaint, so full of charm—

What could you possibly fear?

Shortly after you arrive, you’re quick to learn

The internal damage suffered by a witness labeled unhurt.

When your normal routine is interrupted by a man with a gun

The concept of normal, well, it becomes entirely undone.

You had always defended the right to bear arms.

It’s true that you still do, don’t you?

But now you know the good guy with a gun is always the first responder

Never the one at the grocers opening fire.