Untitled
To be gay would be so much easier this never would have happened if i saw women with lust not disgust this never would have happened if i saw men as a friend not a beginning to an end this never would have happened if i fell in love with her if i were to be realistic and romantic i would never have fallen in love with blonde hair, azure eyes. Him. but i was sure this never would have happened if i didn’t see a future and now i have a stitch actually my heart has many He was ready to give me plenty a kiss here, a compliment there, but not enough He left… he left for another and my heart in two this never would have happened if i saw women with lust not disgust this never would have happened if I saw men as friend not a beginning to an end this never would have happened if i were gay To be straight would be so much easier this never would have happened if i saw men with lust not disgust this never would have happened if i saw women as a friend not a beginning to an end this never would have happened if i fell in love with him if i were to be proper and prim i would never have fallen in love with brunette hair, bright green eyes. Her. but i was sure this never would have happened if i didn’t see a future and now i have a suture actually i have many THEY were ready to give me plenty a fist here, a kick there, slurs everywhere LESBO DYKE HOMO this never would have happened if i saw men with lust not disgust this never would have happened if I saw women as a friend not a beginning to an end this never would have happened if i were straight But then again if I were straight, I wouldn’t understand When I say straight people don’t or will never understand I am not trying to be offensive, rather I am stating a fact. I get it though, every single person at one point or another has felt lonely. Yet it becomes an entirely different type of loneliness when you are gay. 3.6% of the American population identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender. Out of the ENTIRE American population less than 5% are LGBT+. The mere thought of marriage and true love seemed a folly before June 26, 2015, a date that will never be forgotten in 8 million minds while it is completely unnoticed by others. On that day I was presented the right to a marriage, as though I was not human enough before to wish to love until death. To them, to those that do not understand “They want too much” “It isn’t right” “It’ a violation of the sanctity of marriage” I am an aberration. I am a sin. I am unholy. I am told that my love is not love but rather a lie. When all I ask is for the chance to wake up in the arms of the girl I love as the fog settles through the trees All I hope for is the chance to go into the kitchen and make her favorite breakfast banana pancakes, coffee, and some fruit is all I can really do but I’ll know she love every bite All I can dream for is that she will catch me in the kitchen before I make it back to bed her arms will wrap around my waist as we dance to the music in our minds Yet, I am told that I choose to have the possibility of being harassed, bullied, killed, or ostracized by society. There are those who accept us, but even then we can see the change in their eyes. The change in how someone looks at you. Every action I make towards someone now holds different connotation. Every word I say now holds the weight of being gay. No matter how accepting someone may be, they will always look at me differently. My touches are no longer just friendly affirmations but, rather, a predatory advance My “totally straight, strictly dickly” best friend would cringe away at my embrace Not realizing that physical touch is my love language and never before have I felt so rejected by someone I love. One can try to make jokes, to ease the ache of being gay. I kid myself with stereotypes of who I am and yet each time it feels like a small part of myself is being ripped away. But hey! Flannels are really comfortable and I can’t help but love snapbacks. I say it is okay. I laugh as though it is okay. I smile as though I am not breaking inside. Because no one wants to know that I cry at night, begging to have never been born in the first place. But don’t worry, I chose this right? No one wants to see me force myself to try to be straight. No one wants to see me rip myself to pieces because I hate who I am as a person. I look into my brother’ eyes and see disgust. I look into my mother’ eyes and see pity. I look into my sister’ eyes and see sadness. I look into my father’ eyes and I fear. I look into my friend’ eyes and see repulsion. But, I have looked into a stranger’ eyes at pride and seen acceptance. I have looked into a child’ eyes and seen hatred. I have heard the screams and the yells sending me to hell. I have seen the confidence in accepting oneself. Inspiring me into seeking out my happiness without giving a fuck to what homophobic bigots think Awakening me into following my heart and kissing the girls I want to kiss Gay. Fag. Dyke. a part of who I am is merely an insult. my existing has become a stain to another’ life. I wish I could scream and tell them that I never wanted this. I never wanted to be gay. I prayed to be straight, I prayed to be “normal”. I prayed to feel accepted. I prayed to a deity I don’t believe in, in hopes of being content. To be happy would be too much to ask I just want to be content.