I remember the first time someone explained to me what the word gay meant.
We were in middle school
Playing on the swing set behind Stoy Elementary
"He’s so gay," she said
Bitter disgust poured out of her mouth with every syllable
I could not think as to why being happy could be such a horrible thing
And so I asked
My exact words being
“Whats so wrong with being happy?”
Now both my friends looked at me weird
“Don’t you know what gay means?”
“Doesn’t it mean to be happy?”
“You’re such a little kid, gay does not mean happy. Gay is a boy who likes another boy”
I stood there wondering why it mattered so much that a boy liked another boy;
why it was such a distasteful thing.
And why it meant gay couldn’t still mean happy.

who am i
to have the right
to shoot an arrow
into your heart
to make you love me?

sadly my name's not cupid.

but then again,
nor does cupid exist.