i have felt more honest touches from straight boys honestly telling me i am honestly worth nothing they treat me like a ***** magazine they get so much pleasure from tearing open my spine i am a centre-fold of ****** lips & bruised eyes there's only so much my staples can take how can i feel safe, when bricks don't build homes but instead fly towards me with labels like "******" from the mouths of boys who don't have the ***** to put on a ball gown and throw their stilettos at homophobic policemen on hot summer nights you wanna talk about fights? i know what it's like to french kiss your "oh-so-british" fist so don't talk to me about equality until i don't have to walk the streets at night with my keys between my fingers expecting the worst, always.