There aren’t enough words
There aren’t enough songs
There aren’t enough dances
There aren’t enough paintings

There aren’t enough protests full of people shouting
There aren’t enough petitions calling for some kind of new policy
There aren’t enough stories of suffering
There aren’t enough vigils for a lost friend
Or brother
Or sister
Or mother
Or father
Or son
Or daughter

There must not be enough
Because we would stop, wouldn’t we?
If we could hear the voices
See the bodies
Feel the pain

That has to be the answer
I cannot think of a single person who would continue to hurt me if I told them I was hurting
Not one
Even the guys I know who love to tease and torment me
Even they would stop if I said, “you are hurting me bro, please stop”

There must not be enough people in pain for us to finally stop
If there were enough
We would stop

How many are enough?