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Jan 2015
Gay.
That is what I am, or so I think.
I love boys, they make me feel weird.
I get skittish near a boy who says anything nice about me.
I giggle like a school girl, I blush and I get goofy.
But...
I am hidden; From the world outside my shell.
A egg who is yet to hatch.
A refugee, hidden from those who are there to
Hurt..
I scream and kick and snarl at those who
call me *******, Queer, or ****.
.
They think they are smarter than I.
Smart enough to use a word that means
THE SAME THING.
And laugh at me, laugh in my face.
So I cut, and lace away at my flesh.
Totally brainwashed by the idea that I am not perfect to these standards of living today, that I am abnormal, some call it. Different, or a monster to society. But I keep going, scars on my arm show me I can beat them.
I didn't choose to be gay.
But I sure as hell Love it.
My view on those who hate upon my fabulous that flows through my veins.
Quentin House
Written by
Quentin House  Willard, MO.
(Willard, MO.)   
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