the bulletproof plate in my backpack

the bulletproof plate in my backpack

passed down from my brother

like a tradition, 

heavy on my shoulders.

the shots my mother heard from the hallway

hidden in her old classroom

like a symphony, 

heavy on her ears.

the threats written on bathroom walls

whispered around the school

like a promise, 

heavy on the heart.

words

are never sufficient 

to describe the high school experience

we all share.