Orlando, 
tomorrow is forming
morning after the night before 
no more as we pretended 
Mourning informed by scores 
of innocence ended 
sinisterly splintered bodies
friends once befriended
so senselessly littered
amid tears on the floor 
screams nestled in ears 
literary of incinerating oratory
raining fears from pulpits
spun from bits underneath
threadbare wreaths of prayer
thoughtless thoughts 
blame in twitter feeds 
hateful message boards
drawn from darker parts 
of their oblivious hearts 
though this hideous massacre 
were ordained by their Lord
harbingers of terror created in the garbage
of their own hateful ignorance 
people everywhere bleeding 
from either side of this sword

We are more than Orlando 
so very much more 
We are the memories of these so needlessly bleeding
beneath the ceiling of a war torn dancefloor 
We are our neighbors kneeling on the streets of Baltimore 
We are every virgin whore standing on the corner 
the importance of our beautiful truth
We are the incorrigible
adorable youth
We are every club kid with a sweet tooth
dancing in our fruit colored underwear 
We are a leather bear with a mischievous sneer
and the cub with a cupboard full of fetish gear 
We are another unrequited crush
every heart you dared never touch

We are the fags, bull dykes, weirdos, trans, drag and queers
We are in the living memorials to those no longer there 
We are in the hopes of a young couple
dreaming of years forever married 
who were instead 
under scattered flowers together buried 
between these shattered waters 
we are forty nine mothers,
sisters and daughters 
forty nine fathers, brothers and sons 
in all forever unfinished and now never begun 
We are those tonight who are proud 
to wear our pride on our sleeve 
We are those from whom the thieves stole 
not our achievements
left behind when we leave 
wrestling from us everything 
we’ve come to believe 
murderers who stole the brightest of our smiles 
stealing all of our goodbyes 
seizing all four seasons
and every sunrise 
our every wish without reason 
silencing our eyes and the sun from the skies 
shells from the turtle and the swells of the ocean 
for all that might well forever 
be unfinished 
and never begun