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I wear many faces.
Skull-grin stiff and smiling,
they present a kaleidoscope,
a re-fractured, glass-shattered
symbolic representation.
Here’s to piecing it all together,
to the hope that one day
the snake-skin masks
will all shed.
India Sep 12
“Because when you come out to me there’ll be one of three reactions.
I’ll either laugh, I’ll cry, or I’ll give you a big hug.
Or maybe a third - I’ll look you in the eye and ask who’s surprised.”
And I said
“Nice to know.
I’ll bare that in mind for two years down the line when I finally have the courage to tell you”

- coming out to my Godmother

Arjun Raj Sep 3
Where I sit, in a closet full of greys, which aren’t greys,
But colours of the rainbow, gleaming with a diffused glow,
I am not colour blind, but she was, the day I entered her closet,
But now she isn’t, for I have seen her feel the colours,
And sometimes you need not see them, to feel them,
You just have to wear them and see the world outside
through that gleaming diffused glow,
with a butterfly or two in your gut;
you’ll realize that the world is a closet too, that needs to be opened by the might of the strayed,
because the world is colour blind,
just like how she was when I entered her closet.
So, while I sit in here, I wonder what my role is, for I have built a castle in one corner,
just above the drawer where she hides her deepest secrets;
Maybe I am here to show her the light, so that the greys can become the colours they deserve to be
and then her closet can become the most colourful of them all,
and I can watch her be herself, not just in our closet,
but also to the world outside,
For I fell in love with that woman, who is not afraid to be herself, for she can carry any colour with poise, elegance and freedom.
That’s what the world should see and learn, from the most beautiful woman, that I share my closet with.
Pseudonym Aug 24
Every time I do, the person leaves my life.

That’s why I’m terrified to tell you.

I know you’re accepting but I’m still scared to death.

What if my mom finds out?

What if you tell other people?

What if you leave my life too?

I just want to have a supportive community around me but it’s difficult when no one is.

I want you to know.

I need you to know.

But my mom is right there.

And I don’t know how to tell you.

Why am I so scared to just be myself?

Please help me to understand.
Nezzy Jul 24
Can I talk to you
Don't hate me
Don't leave me
Spill down cheeks
I fall to my knees
I'm in love with her
Hands softly
Caress my back
It's okay
I'm here
I still love you
You're still my daughter
Relief washes over me
Waves of gratitude
For the gift I've been given
The gift of approval
Approval of my love
My eyes flutter open
Realization hits me
Like a slap in the face
It wasn't real
He wouldn't let me stay
Couldn't tolerate who I am
My love is a sin
And I ask myself
Is the happiest dream
I've ever had
Kaiden A Ward Jun 13
Cramped and small, there is no air
here in the dark.
We cannot breathe, but we will not leave.
We choke on our dreams in their decay,
desperately trying to make a home
of this coffin,
adorning these walls with rainbows turned gray
which we cannot see anyway.

We're suffocating in this silence,
drilling tiny holes in the walls
of our closet prison cell,
searching for oxygen
so we might make it just
a little bit longer.

But we've become addicted to the light they let in,
craving more and more as we long to be free,
staring at our homemade stars until,
it isn't enough anymore,
and we must decide for ourselves,
if it's worth it, to come out,
to break down the unlocked door
and reveal our hidden colors with pride,
knowing you'll knock the first real breath
from our throats.

And though, finally, we are able to breathe,
the decay still lingers in our lungs
from trying so desperately to
make a home of the coffin
you tried to bury us in.
But not all of us survive.

Fearing you will tear us asunder
if we dare step into the light,
we're seeking peace six feet under
because suicide seems easier than
being forced to choose between
living behind a facade of lies
and inviting the danger
of our honesty,
painting targets on our chests,
for this is the price of our identity
in this society.

We are not the abominations you think we are.
We are human too and
have just as much of a right
to be free, as you do.
So, together, we're learning how to thrive, but,
not all of us know
how to make it out alive.
Karen M Jun 10
All the flowers in his pocket and
Bruises covering his knees
Couldn’t hide the satisfaction
Decorating his chubby little face.
Every surface inch on his
Favorite pair of jeans was unprotected from
Grass stains and dirt cakes. Oh,
How our father would tear
Into him later. It was worth it when the
Junior high school quarterback
Kindly accepted his confession instead of
Laughing like the adults surrounding the pair.
Mom thought it was cute how the little oblivious
Nine-year-old boy had gotten down on
One knee, arms outstretched, as if he were
Proposing to his babysitter. They joke when it’s a child, but
Quickly shun their once loved ones by forcing them to
Run away from home. It wasn’t funny when our
Sister vanished from existence after coming out
To our religious family. They don’t laugh at
Us when we mutter her name. That girl,
Valerie, left all but one shred of existential evidence    
When leaving us for good. Hidden amongst the trees are
Xylographed initials made by lovers over
Yonder in the suburb parks where the human
Zoo couldn’t keep them under watchful eyes.
Based off of real events (not my family). I was given permission by my friend to write about his sister. Her name is changed for privacy reasons.
If you are a member of the LGBTQ+ community,
and you are still looking for home,
trust me, there are good people out there
who will accept you for who you are.
Sometimes, you just have to find them.
I promise you, we are out there and
we can't wait to meet you.
Growing up in a culture where
you are not supposed to exist,
you become accustomed to the generosity
of people trying
to fix you, to
force you into a shape
they can understand.

I did not know how exhausting it was,
trying to remain elastic
in a world that demands us to be static,
trapping us in binary boxes where
we wilt in our confinement but,
against societal expectations,
we refuse to suffocate ourselves
for your comfort.

Together, we will stand in the light,
heads held high with unmatched pride
for we have fought too long and
too hard for our right
to be here
to live silently with
our heads bowed low
any longer.
My contribution to celebrate pride month this year.
Xallan May 28
It's a little voice, a prompting, a suggestion
A prediction what possibly may happen
Do it, fear it, with 'should' cast of gold
Ignore my pusilimous self, my lack of courage

If I were to tell you the truth
About who- toward what- I really am,
You'd be disgusted.
I was.

I've adjusted to the time warp now.
Reject the possibilities, no- have me some
Long shot of anxiety.

Irish coffee and whisky mix well
As I ponder the universes now.
Every reflection is a funhouse mirror
Refracted like a broken prism.
Of the greatest and worst of all superlatives,
I am.

*****, *****, the truth will never be set free.
Imagine me, twice my age,
Same knowledge, will I have changed?
Will my mind and body still rift
Over the contents of my bloodstream?
They will not know until my deathbed.

A man I met once, he knows the truth.
A woman who will die tomorrow, she knows.
A child without care, they knew.

Their knowledge is empty, their memory
Will be forgotten with their minds.

You shall not know.

I intend to keep you, and alive.
Closed to new experiences, you are a
Coward, coward, closed to new knowledge.
Closed to new possibilities, I am a coward.

So as I raise up my fist to hope
My reach is weak, my hand is closed.

Hope knows, and hope is dead.
Your empathy was washed away
In a flood of others' medications.

You would not have comprehension, have it.
You would not understand.
Whether I should, or whether I should not:
I fear that I could.
Not gonna happen.

I will tell my secret to all the world, but you.
Many years in ignorance is smiling in bliss.
Your bliss is worth my annoyance.

You have the hope.
I have the time.
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