the stigma,
that I can go to church
and curb
my "affliction".
i was baptized
at the age of 7
because I told her,
my grandma,
that girls
were cute too.
water muttered
with prayer
cannot "cure"
my attraction.
dunk my head
for all i care.
women and men,
both are beautiful
on the inside.
that's what counts.
when will they learn
that body parts
do not
play a role
in sexuality
or gender.
a man with a vagina
a woman with a penis.
a man loves a man.
a woman loves them.
a world with love
cannot exist alone—
there will always
be hate.
i take my boyfriend
to see the lights
at the zoo.
a couple on a date.
a man who wears
the mask of a female
huddled
with another man.
we share hot chocolate
and peppermint kisses.
we get complimented.
we are "cute".
i take my girlfriend
to go ice skating.
we cannot let go
of each other
or the guard rail.
we fall
as one
laughing.
i cup her face.
a single kiss,
vanilla ice cream.
we get glares.
a woman comments
"not in front
of the children".
little do they know.
i'm more gay
smooching the boy
with red hair
than the girl
in her fluffy, white
winter coat.
we cannot simply
forget the issues.
sweeping them
under a rug of shame
hurts me more
than spiteful words.
we must change
a culture of wrongs
to accept a life
that nobody
gets to choose.
YOU ARE READING
she likes the color yellow
Poesíamy soul in poem form. i'm not a good poet, but i've learned to be vulnerable.
