My flag is red, yellow, blue
but it's not my country's flag
it represents;
I hide a secret as embarrassing
as my hair's scent.
Avoiding He and She, I can't help
but pretend I simp over boyscouts;
My friends tell me "It's okay",
although they know I'm never coming out.
It's so easy to find out
but it'd be so hard for them to forgive;
I sigh and promise no one
will know as long as I live.
Like a rip on a pair of jeans,
my identity hides in this closet;
When I get out, I turn back to close it.
I close my eyes and
count one, two, three;
I'm the only one
who gets to see.
My flag's red, yellow,
and blue, and it's true;
Between "Him" and "Her",
I prefer "You".
YOU ARE READING
Poems From Puerto Verde
PoetryDuring this pandemic, we find more time removing each layer of our identity. The deeper we look out our windows, more stars appear. Our hair grows longer and longer. Everyday is spent like a time loop. As Milan Kundera says in "The Unbearable Lightn...
