Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016
I sit at the table next to you.
Dreaming of being with you.
To sit there with you.
To laugh.
To share your jokes.
Your stories.
Your laughter and
Your tears.
But you put me at this table.
You shoved me aside as though
I was just some unwanted or discarded
Piece of gum stuck on your shoe.
You won't let me sit there with you.
And it isn't because you're popular.
It's because I'm different.
And you're afraid of change and of diversity.
You're afraid of my ways affecting you.
You think that my identity is going to rub off onto you and ruin your social aesthetic.
Stop judging me for something I can't control.
You think that my race, my gender, my ****** orientation will affect you.
But it doesn't.
It affects me.
It changes the way I speak.
Changes where I'm allowed to go.
Changes what I'm allowed to do.
Changes who will accept me.
It may even change whether I have a home or not.
So don't you go saying that my identity will ruin the way your friends see you.
Don't say it will ruin your life for being friends with someone like me.
Because losing a friend is the least of my concerns.
Next time you shove someone aside and force them into the table next to you, imagine how hard it would be to not just lose a home,
But to not even be accepted in the place where you feel most comfortable and with the people you thought cared most.
Next time, don't shove us to the other table.
Written by
Noah Stowe  Gender Fluid/My house
(Gender Fluid/My house)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems