In this nearly empty trash can I can see the hard work of a former student who wanted her club to feel loved Thrown away and ripped apart just like our confidence. In this nearly empty trash can I can see the scars on a kid’s wrist Torn open and ripped apart until all of their pride bleeds out of their skin In this nearly empty trash can I can see the suicides of my brothers, sisters, and siblings that don’t identify as either Their memories tossed out and joked over as if their breath never breathed life into their former friends In this nearly empty trash can I can see another GSA meeting poster, ripped off the wall and tossed away Because even our papers don’t get respect in these hallways
I hate your ******* skepticism. You sit and look at me from across an Empty expanse of blood-red tablecloth that might as well be The divide between galaxies. I try to stay calm when you ask if "Alternative" pronouns are being used As a "social experiment" in GSA. I look away. My heart pounds. My face flushes. It is only for the sake of the young kids present That I do not mutter any obscenities. I take a deep breath. I tell you, slowly, carefully, that No it isn't an experiment. They have chosen to use plural pronouns They, them, theirs, Just as legitimate as the "normal" ones, male and female. Why should anyone's name be tied to What they were born with between their legs? You answer back in a long drawl that is so full I skepticism I could choke on it's ignorance. "Okay then." Two words, two words that make me rethink everything I think about you, my father. I was filled with hope when I listened to Tales of love and life, Freedom to marry who you want. You support gay rights, Dad, But I'm left wondering: Do you support all my friends? The pansexual and gender-fluid and bisexual and homosexual and demi-****** and those who chose other pronouns? What about the transsexuals and asexuals and third-gendered and pan-romantic and sapiosexual and queer? I turn away before I reveal my hurt to you I will not open up this can of worms again, I'm sure. I thought I knew you. Now I only know how much more I Respect Compared to you.