When the girls at my Christian college find out I am pansexual
They ask me
What Biblical evidence I have to back up the righteousness
Of same-*** relationships
Like it is a fact out of a textbook
That my love for people is wrong
Same old hymn, sing it again
You're sick of getting rejected
Same old hymn, sing it again
I love you but I don't support your lifestyle
Same old hymn, sing it again
Don't date her, she'll cheat on you anyway
We keep harmonizing to the chorus:
Love the sinner, hate the sin
Love the sinner, hate the sin
Hate who you are, love who you should be
When they tell me pansexual people only exist because it is trendy
That my love for a woman is a fallacy
I love who I love when it goes out of style
Why are we only focused on LGBTQ
When there is love that protrudes beyond those limiting letters?
Never have I seen one pan person on a panel
Speaking about their story
Speaking about their pain
As if they are the only version of this record
Somewhere, another queer person loses a job
Holds a silver bullet to the temple
Scratch that
Society, our construct of queer, the Church
Places the weapon at the scene of the crime
This is no longer a suicide
As we can suspect fowl play.
Every time this happens
My knees become knobs on a radio
My brain, a button
My body switches channels
Begging, pleading, screaming to sing
A different melody.