his breath woke me up every night
we lay in bed; no, it wasn't
that his breath smelled of toxins,
but of dandelions and poppies.
his hair smelled like he rolled around in
fields of roses and he was
the single dandelion that begged and
pleaded to fit in.
he would never fit
in but he didn't know that, so
he kept trying and it was
so beautiful to say the least.
underneath his skin, in-between
his veins and his bones are tiny seeds that
i planted with kisses and they
grow with my love, when i wrap my
bony arms around him and
squeeze tightly - it lets him
know that he's not normal, that he's
not right in the head but
i love that. so when he wakes me
in the middle of the night, as
i lie between him and the emptiness of
the night, i think that i'm dying
but the moon light lingers and i
know i am safe with his flower breath
and the weeds growing in-between
us and the roots that grow out
of my heels and strangle the love
picture frames on our off-white
bedroom wall. i stare at those cookie-cutter
pictures and wish i wasn't right
in the head, too, but if we both were
psychotic, he wouldn't be a dandelion.
so i stay awake and watch
his beauty radiate in the darkness of
the night and wish that i
was that beautiful too. but he
tells me that my battle wounds don't
amount to anything to him, that my skin
is a ghost to him. i wish
he saw me for me, but his eyes
see the beauty that he grows.
but several nights he leaves me and
i am cold and i am worthless and
i pray to a god that he will
come back and taunt me because
i cannot stand it when he is
not here between my fragile arms
keeping me warm and safe.
i beg him when he returns to just
stay the night, just one more night,
because i cannot bare to
sleep without the dandelion amidst
all the rose petals. i need
my dandelion to keep me safe
and to be the needle in the
haystack - i need him to be in my
arms because idon'twanttosleepalone.

People are all equal,
but
is it completely true?
Homosexuality
remain marginalized.
They are normal
people;
they want to
have normal lives.

Children are in foster cares.
Homosexual couples
would love to have kids,
but it is still illegal.
We all need a family
that teach
us
about
equality.

Gay
couples value having
children.
They
can
bring them
love,
education, and
security
for
the happiness of
children.

A harsh word is a harsh word
It doesn't matter who heard
I was told to be a bee,
But what if I feel like a bird?
Wanting to spread my wings
Sow my seed, maybe with a guy
Or maybe with a woman,
The limitations past the sky
Like I said, words can break civilizations,
**** humans, and say goodbye
Words can break barriers
**** hatred, and say I love you
Love isn't divided, it should be shared by the masses
But sadly, it trickled through the cracks as fast as molasses
At least it's out, shined on by the sun
Bask in the moonlight, there is no need to run.
But I am your son
Why does it matter who makes me ***?
Brothers and sisters, join to arms, even if we are different
Love different sexes or may be all together indifferent
L. G. B. T. Q. I. A.
For some it was found, others, in our DNA
Might be the Jack of all trades, but what if I feel like Jill
Is better suited for going down life's hill?
Listen, please, don't spread hate
Sure, one may agree, others might debate
But there is always a little one watching
Leaving an impression,
Whether who can or cannot have a soul-mate
Allowed to adore, love, find interesting or lust
Whom to build my life off with and trust
That's my dream, the world I want my kids to live in
Where kindness and loving someone is genuine
Because right now,
A harsh word is a harsh word
It doesn't matter who heard
I was told to be a bee,
But what if I feel like a bird?