Whenever my mom talks about gays, she says,
"Why does it matter if they sleep with someone of the same gender? You don't have to tell me about your *** life."
But it's not just a *** life.
It's a love life,
and love holds everything we are together
and if my love is different from yours,
in a world when people like me get bullied,
destroyed
for something they can't help,
then I want to know I am safe.
I want to stop lying to you, to my mom,
to my dad, my teachers, my friends.
I want to stop coming to school and being terrified someone will
realize who I am.
I want to be able to be honest about these deepest of feelings.
I want to be able to tell the truth to people who love me,
and I want them to be able to still love me after it.
I long for the day when this won't even be an issue,
and I can look her in the eyes and kiss her,
without gasps or gags or threats of death.
That day is not today.
I long for the day when we don't have to come out
and everyone is free together.
That day is not today.
So, until then, I will wave my ******* rainbow flag
and scream until I can hardly breathe
until it's safe for you and me.
It's horrible we have to use the word gay.
Love is love and it shouldn't be defined a certain way.

And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Blossom.

I look at the same place
Once
Twice
A thousand times
And I still will not be sure
That it is reality

I don't always say what I mean
And I mean a lot of things I don't say
So I talk with you in my head
And you, and you, and you
I always get replies

I catch myself smiling or frowning
And then I give myself a scolding
But the worst is when I forget
Which conversations were real
And which ones were not

Sometimes
My body twitches
And I can't stop

I'm going back to that
                                 dark
                                      place
                ­                          again