Today you told me
How much you love
Fireflies
And I had myself an idea

I'll capture a thousand fireflies
And put them in a thousand
Glass jars
And I'll hang them from the trees
And dance with you
Until morning comes
And the sun brightens up your face
Again and I can't help
But to smile.

Sitting in my garden
I feel the life of these
Plants
These things
These living, breathing specamins
Of mother natures handy work
And I'm simply amazed

In the space between
The words we leave unsaid
I trace a thousand constellations
And the brightest stars
That line your pupil
Illuminate the darkness in my heart
And I focus on the gravity
That draws me closer to you
And the most beautiful part
Is I will gladly let myself
Fall into you

I am free
Free from the evil thoughts
That corrupted me
Free from the rain
That poured down and covered me
I am free

language warning*

So what.
I am a person, with hobbies
Interests

We need labels to understand, but I don't remember anything about labels to discriminate.
How can a feminist be racist? Or any other paradox

They are just labels- to explain and no more. **** all of those *******

So... I'm bisexual
Shock!
Horror!

Nothing more anymore
Identity limited- Why the **** should it be?

To say that just one of my labels defines me, it makes me inferior- well that makes you as a ****

The Jewish labelled with their numbers- me with a word- do you see what you do to me
And to yourself.

If I kiss a woman, I am a lesbian
If I kiss a man, I am straight
I have this illogical need to scream at the heavens from atop a cliff
To scream I’m here in this world; I exist!
To say I am just bisexual is wrong
To say that certain aspect of me is the most oppressed is wrong
I am a woman, I am bisexual, I have tourettes, I have depression
I could go on for hours saying I ams
Saying statements that describe me
I am oppressed and stereotyped by the society I live in
So why is being bisexual the one I defend the most?
I asked myself this daily
Until I found the answer
Every other fact about me is undeniable;
I have a ******
I have diagnoses
That is tangible evidence
I have no sheet of paper with a signature of some fancy M.D.
Nor do I have some body part that labels me as bisexual
There is no definite way to tell if I am bisexual
Which makes it easier for people to say You’re just confused or It’s just a phase
And no matter how often I say it’s not; they won’t believe me
They don’t believe me because I don’t have the evidence they want
I don’t have an M.D.’s signature
I don’t have that ‘bisexual bodypart’
All I have is my own knowledge
And I don’t give a **** if that’s not good enough for you
Because I do exist
And I am here to stay