I sit on the bench
Staring into nothingness
The music, all the way up
Others call it noise
I call it love
There is no more
But the memories
Laying on the floor laughing
Horror images dance across the screen
Secret kisses in the bedroom floor
Nothing tops the beauty of her smile
Her laugh is rare
But oh so wonderful
Chiming bells
Torn back to reality as the school fills
I sigh as her image fades from my mind once more

I may not have the privilege of support from all sides,
But I know who I am.
Maybe it hasn’t exactly surfaced,
And I admit,
There have been some times where I wondered if it’s right,
But how can finally being sure of yourself be wrong?
Yes,
I struggle with self-image
And self-acceptance
My mom looking me in the eye and telling me I can’t be sure,
Or listening to my dad lecture my sister about how it’s
Adam and Eve,
Not Eve and Amy
Doesn’t exactly help,
But in a place and a society where being yourself is only acceptable
Sometimes
If at all,
Having even a little bit of pride
Can be the difference between
Saying “***** it” and being yourself
And deciding pleasing others is more important than your own happiness
But I’m done letting others decide what’s best for me
When I’m clearly already drowning in expectations
So here goes;
I’m pansexual and **** proud
Take it or leave it,
But I'm not gonna change for anybody.

Gray
Black
Depression strikes

Black
Blue
Nursing my wounds

Blue
Yellow
Pink
A flag of support

Pink
Purple
Colors of my past

Purple
Blue
A transition in progress

Blue
Black
The pain won't leave

Black
Gray
A blanket of sadness

Gray
A muddled state of being

Everything swirled together
Everything separate
Everything me

I catch your smile, my heart catches fire
You take a simple breath, my breath is taken away.
They can stare,
Take a picture, it may last longer,
Not as long as I will love her,
She is so beautiful
Her kiss is so warm
She is my safe place
I will love her,
Forever

Five:
Kindergarten
A time we are asked to draw our future lives
Our future families
But while kids are drawing houses with their future spouses
I draw myself alone in a house
All Alone
And I didn’t know why


Six:
My teacher tells the class to describe their future families
To describe the children, spouse, and/or pets we want to have
But I say I don’t want a husband or children of my own
I just want a pet that understands me
I get stares
But I don’t think I’m different
This is when the bullying got worse
When the mold of my face was plastered into the playground mulch
When I grew distant from others.


Seven:
Second Grade
A time where the wedding bells are ringing
Where kids are getting “married” left and right
But when a boys asks me to marry him
I say no
It’s not that I didn’t like him
I just didn’t know why


Eight:
Third Grade
A time where we make friends
A time to explore who we are
Kids were “asking each other out” and holding hands at recess
But I didn’t want that
When a boy came up to me and tried holding my hand
I let it go
Becoming increasingly uncomfortable
And I just didn’t know why


Nine:
Fourth Grade
One of my worst times
Getting bullied so much that the dial couldn’t be turned up any higher
The frequency already alarmingly loud to me
Yet no one did anything
I stood alone
But I was comfortable and I didn’t know why


Ten:
Fifth Grade
The bullying continued
Small rumors got around that I liked girls
They didn’t go very far
Seeing that I pushed away everyone that ever tried to approach me
I wasn’t lonely
I was content no one wanted to hold my hand
Or ask me out
And I didn’t know why


Eleven:
Sixth Grade
We are given “The Talk” this year
We must watch the movie without laughing or fidgeting
Or we have to watch it again
I watch the movie and become increasingly uncomfortable
Feeling the ***** rise
I no longer feel okay
And I wonder
This is what people do
So why don’t I want to


Twelve:
Seventh Grade
I’m starting to understand
Believe in myself
That I’m different
I realize now that I don’t really like boys
Maybe I’m lesbian?
Does it matter?
Whatever it is,
I keep my mouth shut
Afraid of any torture that may follow
Maybe the rumors in fifth grade were true


Thirteen:
Eighth Grade
Relationships rise in intensity
Boys and girls kissing
I still believe I like girls
But not normally?
I seem to have closer bonds with them
But ****** ideas and thoughts never enter my mind
This broken down *****
Questioning its every move


Fourteen:
Ninth Grade
Freshman Year
Where Hell begins
Where I am finally understanding myself, my preferences
Digging deeper into my heart
Clinging to this broken up, already defeated *****
That just beats in my empty chest to make me go through more pain
I do my research.
Lesbian?
No, I don’t like ****** actions that much
Asexual?
The description seems to fit me well
Finally being the mold I needed
The mold to help put my pieces back together.
But who can I tell?
No one
Because no one will understand.


Fifteen:
Tenth Grade
Sophmore year where bullying is an everyday struggle
I do more research
Demiromanticism calls my name
Where I feel romantic feelings for someone I grow close bonds to
And if I only grow bonds with girls
Then…
How will my parents understand?
My friends?
The beings that I cling onto everyday just to keep breathing.
They’ll never understand what kind of a freak I am


Sixteen:
Eleventh Grade
Junior year
I come out to Callan, one of my best friends
And things didn’t go as expected
They accepted me
With open arms that I thought for sure would be closed
It was the first time I felt free
I came out to more of my friends
And then came my family
I expected them to not understand
But they were willing to listen
Enough to accept me
Well I mean … “accept” me
I could tell they didn’t fully believe me
Both plaguing me as a lesbian.
Someone I’m not
But I dropped it
And let them have their vision of me
This personality whom I’m not and never was.
I now fully understand who I am, but they
They seem to think they know me better than I do

I did not know I was Asexual.
I did not think I was anything.
Maybe I thought I was out of place with the world.
Maybe I thought I was out of rhythm with the world.
Now I know, and now I've told you.
I guess I am nothing to you,
because that was enough to make you leave.
I can't say I am happy you left,
but at least I know you aren't the one for me.
Maybe you will never come back.
Maybe you will try to make small talk with me.
Maybe I am just fine with the outcome.

hey, you say
he smiles and you
light up
he throws his arm around you
and replies, hey, bud
you want to cry and trace his lips
and make him
mutter your name
while you have
your tongue in his mouth
you want to touch him,
trace the map of your heart
all over his skin
but he can't know
he won't know
if only he knew you'd be dead meat
with ****** carved on your skin

she grins at you
and loops her arm through yours
and shows you her bra
does this dress make me look fat
and you wish you could say
you're beautiful
and touch her back as you
slide the dress down her sides
but she chuckles and says
i think that boy is cute
why won't he ask me out
and you know
she can never know
she won't ever know
if you ever touch her
she'll push you away
yell, ew, a ****

you're oh so pretentious
you, such little poser
you've only ever been with guys
you don't know what it's like
to be with a lady
what a grand faker
you're so not special
shut the **** up

you're being ridiculous
don't you like ***
well you've never had it
find someone to put you in bed
I promise you'll like it
the best time you've ever had
now don't be a freak

here's something unheard
not in *** ed
and not at home
who sleeps with whom
is a business of their own