I've read a couple of your stories so far. This one has by far hit the hardest for me. I am near, but removed from, one of the most well-known school shootings of the day. I am far enough ahead in time that the people who lived through it were physically distanced from me, stuck in a stage of life much ahead of me- and yet I am close enough in proximity that I know people who were there for the aftermath, even the late aftermath. From experience, these places do get left behind. They are stuck swimming in all of eternity, only connected when something happens to bring the place and its modern inhabitants back to the surface. The school it happened at may have always been shitty (nobody ever speaks of the details), but in the years after the shooting it became unorthodox as well. It has a name that will forever be connected to tragedy rather than sports championships or national teams, and the people are aware of this reality. Things will never be the same for the place itself even as the people move on, and I applaud you for a poem that calls to mind these effects.