The Bathroom Stall (We stand with Orlando)

I lay here with my heart pulsating against my chest.

My partner trying to be ardent, clinched fist.

Blood of all shades of the rainbow surrounding us.

These are our last moments, trust.

*

This is how we take our last breaths.

Joyous occasion and a lunatic with a gun.

My aspirations, thoughts and all my fears are clustered against this bathroom stall.

Hoping for my guardian in blue and white armor will come, save us and stand tall.

*

My mother texts me, and I'm petrified.

I haven't finished my life or my reached my fullest potential.

I want to marry this man that is dying on my chest.

Why does this have to happen to me? I finally found life to be substantial.

*

Life is already difficult, this is a place that was supposed to be safe.

What did we ever do to you? Why are you making us an example?

The soft and eerie sound of lifeless bodies are giving me no hope.

We are pressed against this toilet, while my mother just rambles.

*

She doesn't know this is my last moments on earth.

I text her, I love her and that I'm going to be with the Lord.

I heard the bathroom door slam open and we bow our heads.

My partner whispers, "we are about die." I hummed a gospel chord.

*

I whispered back, "I love you and now think of Jesus with me."

The shooter slammed the door open and without seeing our faces.

We woke up in an angel's arms. 

I felt no pain, no tension and no traces of blood.

*

I yell as I didn't want to leave my family and my friends. Why did this have to happen? Why can't we just live in peace? Why do we have to have innocent lives destroyed.

*Continue to pray for the families and loved ones of those beautiful individuals that lost their lives. I place myself in their shoes, and it alone bothers my spirit. Please be safe, life is clearly not promised.

 

The End

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