Poems

Am I the Problem?

I knew I was gay when I was eight and my family sent me to therapy to be straight. Now anyone who looks at me can see that I like all people; no matter gender identity, sexuality, or race. I don't judge you so please don't judge me. Never did anything  wrong but I'm an outlaw.

Tried to kill myself nine times but my family they just laughed it off. Told me I was a sinner like they are saints. Using Bible verses to whip at my mental stability, as if it could use more damage. These wounds aren't healed; you rip them open and beat at them again and again. But I'm the one who's a peice of shit.

They aren't the only ones who did wrong; don't misinterpret me. No, they are more of you. The kids in the hall who whisper slurs or look at me with disgust; keep your damn eyes to yourself because I'm done. If you've got something to say, say it to my face; I'm not afraid. But I'm the problem, I'm the disgrace.

Then, there are the states with all there laws against me. I just want to breathe, I just want to live. I already have no rights, what more do you want from me? It's always one step forward three steps back; when will this change? Are you going to legalize murderering me? But I'm the mistake,right?

I'm a peice of shit, right? When my family overlooks the cuts, the scratches, and the pain. When they disown me.  I'm the problem and the disgrace, right? When all these parents raise there kids in hate, when schools teach them it's okay as long as no one hears or sees, and when celebrities say no rights for the gays, the Asians, the African Americans, the Muslims, the Jewish. I'm still the problem, right? I'm the mistake, right? When I end up beat, disowned, dead, or sexually assaulted because of my gender identity or sexuality. I'm still the peice of shit, right? I'm still the problem and the disgrace, right? I'm still the mistake, right?

Is the problem really me?