Orlando's Pulse

Orlando’s Pulse

June 26th, 2015.
The fight we won was one.

One without guns, without tears,
One that tied the knot around fingers instead of fear,
It was one.
One night one step we slept with knowledge that

One day we could hold a hand in ours and feel a ring

Form tan lines next to our knuckles that we were tempted to tattoo there just to prove it’s real,
One day.

One day we did not think about the 49. About 49. About 49.

June 12th, 2016.

We can’t take in joking winks and dancing bodies and love, love so real it felt like everyone in the room took breaths at the same time,
Brushing side to side because there everyone was the same heart beats to the beat of every single mind-
Please.

They just wanted to find something sweet with their sweet in a beat in a beat beat beat,
We cannot be beat by your bullet,

They will not beat your name into my head.
I will not remember
you
will not be counted with the dead.
You're the ache in my mind in the lack of times they publicize this as a hate crime,

In the breaking news banner breaking already bruised hearts,
In the families who everyday live with a broken beat,
A beat that was once a
Pulse.

Pounding on an earth told as the only forgiving place we get.


You created ringtone symphonies
Coming from cold body's pockets
A song only heard by a forensics team-
Music was never meant to be written in blood

June 12, 2017.

I am 17,
And I am so lucky to be alive

Today,
On this holy day,
I listen to Lady Gaga and Latin pride mixes like hymns,
Apply ritualistic drugstore glitter,

Pledge allegiance to each one of the flags those 49 stars belonged to-
Light my first girlfriend's incense.

Today,
The saviors I look to

Died on a dance floor
For our Pride.


Their teachings-

That a pulse put out Pulse cannot stop us from wearing June like a pin stabbed through skin-

To speak for every beat.
Each moment they didn’t get to be,

Be.

We need to be.

 

We cannot keep staring at reflections

Waiting

For them to blink first.

 

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