~~
"we are not a phase"

they had told us

to whisper our pronouns

hide our true colours painted on flags

like shame folds easier

than truth.

...

they say,

"love has rules"

but only when it looks

a certain way,

and we never looked

they way they had wanted,

the way they expected us to be.

...

but we exist

in full colour --

in quiet,

soft,

gentle first kisses,

in second glances that were held

a little too long by most,

in the hands that tremble

but still reach.

...

we are not a debate.

we are certainly not a phase.

we are stories

that are still being written,

in chalk

on our skin,

in protest,

and in poems.

...

and when they try to erase us,

who we are,

we come back.

louder.

softer.

screaming for rights.

still here.