1...
you beat everyone to
the punch
and branded yourself a
freak before you knew what
that word even really meant

but that didn’t matter
because, five days a week
you waited for the bus with
a bouquet of scotch broom
held in one small hand

picked sweetly and tenderly
for the pretty, pretty girl
with her long brown hair
and shine in her eyes
that always saved a seat
just for you

and she always took
those flowers, too
might even let you
hold her hand

and you didn’t know
what it meant
at seven years old
but there were sparks
and butterflies and
you never wanted to
let go

2.
but, kids can be cruel
and you remember the terror
crushing and suffocating
that came on the heels of
realizing you liked this girl

probably more than any
two girls should
have liked each other
you told yourself

trying to hold that part in
that knowledge of liking
someone of the same ***
but not feeling like that
was the right gender
for you, either

and what is a child
supposed to do with that?
how can someone so young
expect themselves to have
the proper vocabulary to
express something so
big and so new?

3.
and you think of that girl
for the first time in 15 years
crying into the knuckles
held firmly in your chipped teeth

like there are enough tears
to wash out the
pain that still lingers from
feeling so wrong and *****
for so many years

and you called yourself
a freak first
but, only to lessen the sting
that came with being called
worse things

like what was different
about you was so much
worse than wanting to
hold hands with a pretty, pretty girl
that saved you a seat
on the bus and would sometimes
let you hold her hand

4.
and you want to ask
what is so wrong with that,
who were you hurting,
being young and in
something akin to love?

and you want to ask
so many things
like how you were supposed to
know you could be gay
when no one ever said so

how were you to know
that a girl could love a girl
and a boy could love a boy
and there is beauty in that?

because, of course there is
there was beauty in your love
for that girl with the
long brown hair and soft smile

there was beauty in your
knowing that if that girl had
asked and smiled at you just so
you would have stolen the
moon from the sky
just for her

5.
and you know so
many things now
and only some of them
hurt enough to bring tears
to your tired eyes

and that’s okay, too
no one can blame you
for mourning over what
could have been
and could have been sooner

if only you had known
that your affection was
not only okay
but a thing to behold
to be proud of

6.
and you have loved
since that girl
sometimes wondering if she
remembers your name

and you have cried, too
out of fear and happiness
and heartbreak
like any good poet
must do

and you have grown
into yourself
into your being as a man

and you’ve got the scars
to prove it
thank you very much

and sometimes, when you
look at him
or her
or them

you are nothing more than
that child again
picking flowers for a pretty girl
because you know they will
make her smile

and that smile will
make your heart
grow wings
every time