When I told my phsysical therapist that I'm a lesbian,
her answer was a question I did not ever expect;
"So... Are you a lesbian because you are disabled and you cannot get a boyfriend?"
I was speechless,
looking at the wall,
stunned. *******,
she did not just stereotype every single disabled homosexual to have ever existed.
I stammered no,
and I tried to explain that I have had boyfriends before,
it just wasn't my thing.
Looking back now I realise that,
I should not have explained anything because I don't ever need to explain anything about the people I love.
I have had a thing for girls,
since I was three,
and when I was three years old I did not notice my disability,
the way it's being noticed today.
And the absolute most heartbreaking thing about both my sexuality and my disability is,
that I still do not notice it as much as everybody else seems to do.
I can be the best girlfriend ever,
no matter what my sexuality is,
no matter how my body looks.
And don't get me wrong;
I like guys too. I think guys are wonderful.
If God had created Eve and Ava,
who would have brought me into this World?
I can get a boyfriend if I want one,
maybe someday I find the most amazing guy ever,
and I will not let my sexuality stand in my way.
But for now,
I am a disabled homosexual,
who decided to tell you about it.
And dear physical therapist:
I have never judged you,
not even when you told me you fell for a fat guy,
and now you're married.
So don't ask me if I'm only a lesbian,
due to the fact that I have a disability,
because guess what?
I'll have my disability no matter if,
the person I'm dating,
has a ***** or a ******.

(e.k.j.)

I can't lie...
I miss her.
Maybe not the romantic relationship,
But I miss her company...

I miss those nights eating dinner in front of the TV,
I miss her in the kitchen sipping on some wine,
I miss those lazy Sundays on the couch doing nothing.

I can't lie...
I miss her.
Maybe not those nights when we fought incessantly,
Maybe not the constant struggle for wanting to be wanted..
But I miss her...
I miss the sincerity of her heart
I miss the love in her eyes when she looked at me...

I miss the security...
Knowing she was going to be in my bed every night,
I miss the feeling in my heart
Knowing that there was no need to worry...
She was mine, and I was hers.

I can't lie...
I miss her.
Maybe not the tears she shed,
Maybe not the constant fighting
Maybe not those nights when I was constantly pushed away...

But...
I miss the simplicity,
I miss how comfortable we were,
I miss knowing every single part of her body,
I miss the plans, the smiles, the conversations...

I can't lie.
I miss her...
My best friend, my accomplice,
my constant companion...

I can't lie...
I still miss her...my wife.

thank you to the kind women that told me i was going to burn in hell.

thank you to my boss that told me why she was curious that i was going to consistently sin everyday for some fun

thank you to the mother that shielded her child's eyes while i walked by holding my boyfriend's hands.

thank you to the man that yelled ****** across the street while i walked my grandmother to her husband's funeral.

thank you to the kids that threw rocks at my house while i came up with a way tell my mom that it was me that accidentally broke the window.

however

thank you God for accepting me for the person i am.

thank you mom and dad for allowing me to be in love with the person i want to be in love with

thank you grandma for letting me know that even her religion is personally persecuting her for her acceptance, she doesnt care.

thank you to my siblings that understand that there isnt anything different with me, and that letting their friends know too

thank you me for being **me

I was only missing you
But you turn back on me
I wish we could rewind
and turn back time
To correct the past,
Now everything's going wrong
The hope inside me has faded away,
I guess this is farewell
As we go down our own paths,
I will keep you in my heart forevermore
Goodbye.

[in-tuh-muh-see]*  (noun)*

1. you'll let him undress you even though morning light is pouring through his two story apartment window and he's never seen you naked without the dark to hide your flaws; you won't have to hold your breath the entire time.

2. he isn't afraid to pray with you, you aren't afraid to tell him when you're not ok. You both wake up in each other's arms believing that nothing would ever be as simple as this.

I am a poet because of you.
It's the way your being
delivered a tidal wave of
poetic awakening to my
once dull veins.

Your lips watered
the flowers in my tongue
that were once called prose
but now they developed into poems.

Your fingers latched
perfectly into mine and
your nerves reacted to my nerves so right
and in that moment I knew our hands  were designed for each other.

And although
your tongue left my tongue
and your hand left my hand,
the diabolical mixture of your blissful and painful memories
kept the flowers in my tongue alive.

Soon enough, the flowers
crawled through my arms and hands,
begging me to write
the poetry that they bring.

You will never read this
but I forever thank you,
for I will always be a poet
because of you.