I write for their eyes
as I narrate the loneliness they feel
from the inside of hidden identities
that have become immersed
within the transparent confusion
of society’s delusion.

Some are brave and stand alone
on judgment’s concrete stone
afraid to shine their difference
in the dampened skies where hateful
eyes
plagiarize their souls to be ashamed
of how they were born;

some are young, abandoned and living
in houses that done feel like home.
They are trying to be clones
of who they are told they have to be
but in their hearts they just
reach for the moment where
they can be free

and some are reminders of me—hidden sexuality
searching for air
and the right to breathe their own
civil liberty.  I write for their pride, their beauty
and their strength
I write for every emotion
they feel they need to keep locked up
Inside/afraid no one would understand;
afraid there would be no one
on their side

and I write for their courage;
the everyday journey
of new discoveries and the celebration
they will inherit by loving who they are
because they will be loved.

I write for them and I write for who
I used to be – lost ones
ready and searching to be found.