Things I Think About

Is it My Fault?

Why don't you care about me anymore? Was it something I did? Should I have not spoken my mind? Or maybe just not so loud? Maybe I was a little too self centered, or thought I mattered more than I did.

When did you stop caring? Was it when I finally got sick of sitting in the dark, cold closet? Or was it when I finally spoke out about the hands on my body that I never wanted there in the first place? Of course it also could have been when I condemned your racism and stopped putting up with the excuses of someone's age, or how they were raised.

Growing up I was always told "love thy neighbor as thyself", did I take that too literally? Was I not supposed to love people regardless of who they were or what they'd done? Or was this supposed to solidify my silence against you? If I loved everyone that meant no matter what you did or said I still had to love you, right?

Did you know I would be among the people you deem less than? Is that I why I learned being gay was a sin from the age of 6? Is that why I had no positive queer influences until I was 14? Or why I'd only met 3 black kids until I was 12? Is that why I was scolded for speaking against injustice in the Bible? Injustice you attempted to gloss over and pretend was okay because it was "different times" and it's "better now"?

But it's not. The streets are in flames and you still promote a rapist turned racist, condemning me for not supporting him, trying to force love thy neighbor back into my vocabulary even though it never left.

Did you all watch thinking that being born into a church, being bathed in Christ's blood would make me ignore the blood on our hands? That if you pushed hard enough, and preached loud enough I would never question you, or speak out? Have you prayed for my silence all of these years only to be disappointed when I found my voice?

I know the words I speak hurt you, and I know you don't want to listen but your comfort is no longer my concern. When I've seen children be raped, and murdered, and gassed, and shot, and you still want to ignore it because "it's hard to look at", forgive me for being angry. Forgive me for screaming my lungs out at the hypocrisy of you pretending you care when you blind yourself to claim you didn't see anything wrong.

And forgive me for loving my neighbors.