🏳️⚧️🏳️🌈❤️⚧️🩷
They taught us love was narrow, boxed in black and white,
A man, a woman, scripted roles, no questions, no fight
But love kept slipping through the cracks they tried to seal,
Because the human heart refuses not to feel.
They said, “Just wait, you’ll find the right one someday,”
Told girls a man would fix them, make them “okay.”
Told boys a pretty girl would make them whole, complete
But what if truth and expectation never meet?
It’s all the same love, whether whispered, loud, or torn,
From hands they tried to separate, to children newly born.
It’s all the same love, though they label it a sin,
But hate’s the thing that poisons, not the love within.
History isn’t distant, it’s written in the scars,
In names erased, in shattered glass, in prison bars.
Men in uniforms raided bars in ‘69,
Dragging bodies out like dignity’s a crime.
In silence, patients marked and filed away as sick,
Electroshock to “cure” them, make the feelings quit.
Conversion rooms where prayers replaced a child’s own voice,
As if their truth was something they had somehow chosen.
Read the lists, the ones we’re told not to recall,
The lives reduced to headlines, if they’re named at all.
Beaten in the streets for holding someone’s hand,
Buried by their families who refused to understand.
Matthew left to die on cold and open land,
A body broken just for loving as he planned.
In clubs where music once made strangers feel like home,
Gunfire answered, said “you’re safer on your own.”
And still they say, “It’s different, it’s not the same,”
While lighting torches, giving cruelty a name.
But hate is hate, whether whispered or declared,
In every slur, in every life they never spared.
Girls don’t need a man to justify their breath,
Boys don’t need a girl to prove they’re not “a mess.”
Love isn’t something handed out by someone else
If you deny another, you deny yourself.
Because what kind of heart must you carry inside
To look at love and choose disgust, choose pride?
What kind of wound runs quiet, buried deep below,
That turns another’s joy into a threat you know?
It’s all the same love, messy, human, raw and real,
Not something you can silence, not something you can steal.
And if you can’t accept it, if you turn away
Ask what part of yourself you’ve locked away.
Because people who can’t love what they don’t understand
Are fighting something broken in their own demand.
And every time you judge, or strike, or push above
You prove the absence of the thing you’re scared of: love.