She was taught to look up at the sky...
To find love in the stars, moons and the galaxies that danced an unknown song...

But...

She taught her heart to look into her own self...
And then did she found her love...
In the universe of her cells...that had been playing  a familiar tune since she had been born to live!

I grew up with God in the wind,
and didn't fit in with Christian friends.
They told me stories and begged me to repent.
Though doubtful, my anxiety sparked at the thought of sin.

I was once on a playdate and the mother told me.
She disowned her best friend when she confessed she was a lesbian.
She told me she could only take her back if she came to her senses.
It made me feel sad and sick, with little sympathy for the protagonist.

I was once told by a good friend that no one is bisexual, of course they're just confused.
I knew who I was but I didn't say anything in rebuttal.
I just nodded my head and took the bruise.

Once after jokingly seeing my boyfriend and another male friend hold hands, my mother told me "how dare those ******* disrespect you like that."
It was a moment that shattered glass and left scars.
I managed an apology after too much effort.

My stepfather once told me that gender fluidity was a confused phase, and a fad for attention.
Walls were put up and notes were taken.
Doors remained closed and silence  prevailed.

I am complicated.
I blend in to "normal"
I feel guilty at times and don't feel honest.

I undervalue, perhaps, the benefit of looping everyone in.
Or, perhaps, I'm just keeping the peace and heeding warning signals.

I can say for certain, it's not a fad nor phase.
I've always been who I am, I just had to grow up in order to phrase it.

Stuck under a cloud,
I go about my days,
trying to find,
the non-existent rays.

In a world where sadness
is thought of as weak,
as I am driven to madness,
help I simply cannot seek.

It’s seems as though,
I have nowhere to go,
in my line of work,
your taught to just let it go.

So I stow it away,
deep in my heart,
but now it is back,
worse than the start.

So here I am again,
stuck under this cloud,
spending my days,
trying to find..

those non-existent rays

Surreal
Is the voice that
Is speaking
Mine but not
Mine
I can hear it
Too clearly as if I'm
Listening to a recording
What am I saying?
What's the point

I hear my voice
The voice I speak
Are my words meaningful?
What am I saying?
I speak to be understood
And yet it's always about
Winning.

From speaking
To almost losing the end
Of my words to
Resigning myself
To what is,
My voice is always lost
Lost to their ears
Lost to my will
Lost to the body I was given.

I hear my voice and I
Don't want to.
I don't want to hear it
Not when the people
Around me also hear it
And yet refuse to
Think about my voice
My words.
I don't want to hear it

I don't want to hear my voice
Because it is what I don't want
I don't want to hear that I've
Given up

The belt which holds your pants up,
The same belt holds my head high.
The game which you play at night,
The same game I deny.
The heels which I wear,
from them beware.
The make-up in my bag,
Is yet another instrument hiding my despair.
The smiles with which you greet me,
One day I will turn the tables Around.
Maybe today i ain't doing it,
But it doesn't mean that I wouldn't do it ever.
The day will come nd it will come soon.
Maybe you do not acknowledge me today,
But remember my day will come too.
It isn't only about what you did to me,
But what you did to hundreds out there.
Maybe it isn't daily that we speak up,
But the day we do can put behind the bars thousands of you.