Pick a pen, with a little jotter

Read and learn, the worlds disorder

Off, to think, create, maneuver

Spread your ink, debate, whatever!

Edit and publish, relate, discover.

Pulse is a name I will never forget.

Ricocheting bullets that could have ripped through my transgender flesh.

Of course, you blame it on the Muslims.

Sorry, it wasn't them. It was one asshole, product of his time, who wanted us dead.

Even though it's been forty-seven years since Stonewall.

Pulse is a name I will never forget.

Really, I thought I was safe because it's been forty-seven years.

Obviously I was wrong. No one is safe.

Such quiet lovely passion in my heart, and the natural complexity of humanity:

Enough to warrant a death sentence.

Pulse is a name I will never forget. It will

Riot in my heart, reach past my tender years to the core of me.

Oscillate between fear and terror.

Siblings, queer brothers and sisters and nonbinary loved ones,

Each of your names sings in my blood.

Pulse is a name I will never forget.

Remember it, scrawl it into your soul like Stonewall.

Obey the call of bravery and pride that echoes under your skin.

Such hatred will not change the fact of who I am.

Everyday I will exist. No one can stop us now.

Please listen. He cannot

Rob me of who I am. I am genderqueer.

Omit nothing - I am pansexual.

Scribble this down, I will not be denied.

Eliminate your ignorance, excise your

Prejudice, because that is what made him.

Really, all we want is to be accepted. This

Odyssey

Should be over by now.

Each of us are human. Stop killing us. Accept us as your equals.

Pulse is a name I will never forget.

Pens plundering psychedelic patched pockets of prose passionately

Reverie of revised raindrops of rippled reflected rhythms resonating

Omega of open oceans outpouring onyx opportunities of obsession

Sashaying through scattered sighs and splashes of seductive silence spiraling

Embryonic echoes of ecstasy etching and embracing essence of existence.

Peeling my skin back, bear witness

Raw cuts, seething with infected poison

Open now, blood is freely flowing

Spilling the crimson words of my soul

Exchanging venom in my heart for peace

Provide me more, my darling would say, the;

Roses you sent to me are withered, the;

Oil and sweet spices are washed away with a quick

Shower but only your words remain, so don’t linger! tell me how I am

Everything to you, before the lonely night comes...

Parallel to the boundaries of

creativity

Right beside an artists

proximity

Onward towards preserving our

identity

Synapse from a thought to

longevity

Eternally etched to outlast

infinity