"heterosexuality" poems
To the man on the street that called my ex girlfriend and I ****** I forgive you. We were nineteen and in love, I’m sorry that you were raised in a way that made you look at two girls holding hands and laughing as something that wasn’t to be shown in public. I’m sorry that my happiness made you feel insecure in that moment. My happiness was not on display to offend you. My love life was never an act of rebellion against you. I will forgive you for how you were raised but I will not apologize for showing love in a way you don’t deem appropriate for wandering eyes.
To the people I went to high school with, I’m sorry I never heard the rumours you spread about me until you were already out of my life. I’m sure you meant to break my heart when you called me **** in the hallways but your words never made their way back to me. Your aggression towards who I chose to love never stopped me from falling in love with girls I never imagined could be real. I refuse to hide away my love. I will not let your words shame me back into the closet I was scared to admit I was stuck in.
To the people who used to send me anonymous messages telling me to **** myself I hope you’re in a better place now. I often think about how my big secret made you so upset that you couldn’t stand to live in the same world as me. I’m not sorry that I’m still here now. I still feel sorry that you were so sad with yourself that you needed to make me feel as hopeless as you were.
To the people who voted no towards same *** marriage but watch girl on girl **** I’m sorry my love is only okay when it’s for your pleasure. I’m sorry that you have such a skewed view on life that you see women as objects and not as people. I would forgive you but I don’t think you’d fess to your wrongdoing to be forgiven. There is nothing to forgive if someone won’t admit that they are wrong.
I’m twenty three now and I’m still not sorry for writing love poems about beautiful girls. I have stopped apologizing for being something that I’m proud of. I no longer hide behind my assumed heterosexuality. I proudly proclaim my attraction to women because I spent too many years being ashamed of being in love. I will never again sweep hatred under the rug to keep peace. I have never needed your approval for my love to be valid and I never will.
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 10:08 AM UTC
The choice is not about homosexuality or heterosexuality it is about being true to who we are.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
As I remember how her lips felt as they plowed through the barriers of my insisted claims of heterosexuality I cannot help but think,
without falter...
wow
okay,
but this isn't why I'm a feminist.
My attachment to her,
my fellow female,
member of my legion,
has nothing to do with
my squinting eyes
at the
blinking neon signs of
inequality
that hangs about all of our heads every day
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
People regard *** differently:
Some see *** as a commodity; to be exchanged for favors and things.
Some see *** as a medium for emotive and spiritual expression.
Some see *** as merely a means to a purely biological end.
Some see *** as a good time and not much else.
Some see *** as a set of diminishing returns.
Some see *** as an escape from themselves.
Some see *** with a keyboard and mouse.
Some see *** as a communion of Temples.
Some see *** as something not to discuss.
Some see *** as just another thing to do.
Some see *** as a battleground for Lust.
Some see *** as an extra long shower.
Some see *** as profane and obscene.
Some see *** an personal preference.
Some see *** as ages-old Dogma.
Some see *** as Heterosexuality.
Some see *** as all that there is.
Some see *** as uncomfortable.
Some see *** philosophically.
Some see *** as a distraction.
Some see *** as meaningless.
Some see *** as a way of life.
Some see *** as a good time.
Some see *** as metaphor.
Some see *** as necessity.
Some see *** as a luxury.
Some see *** as a game.
Some see *** as Mythic.
Some see *** as a drug.
Some see *** as Virtue.
Some see *** as Logic.
Some see *** as Good.
Some see *** as Love.
Some see *** as Lust.
Some see *** as Evil.
Some see *** as Sin.
Few see *** the same way:
How do you see ***
The only right answers for you are yours.
How do you see ***
From the first person, or perhaps third?
Is *** a vicarious thing, or is it personal?
How do you see ***
Is promiscuity absurd?
How do you see ***
Can your ****** life affect others?
How do you see ***
Does it matter who it's with?
Does it matter with how many?
Does it matter how rapidly?
Does it matter why?
It sure does to me.
Does it matter for how long?
Does it matter how often?
Does it matter where?
Does it matter when?
Not with the right person.*
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
To the boy who broke my heart.
Thank you.
Because you have given me something so much more sweet.
The way her eyes reflect my ear to ear smile as we joke about
Our futures.
Who we want to be when we grow up
And who we don’t.
The way she can always make me laugh harder than you ever could,
My stomach sore.
But not from the skipped meals you forced me into.
Because I was never beautiful enough for you.
The way my parents confuse my heterosexuality for homosexuality
Because my “love poems” are always about her.
The girl
Who knows my soul like the back of her hand
My darkest secrets.
My biggest flaws.
And she doesn’t use it against me.
Romantic feelings are not the key to life I always guessed they were
when you have found the person who can make your life worth living.
Your best friend.
The one who kissed the reflection of you engraved in my wrist.
And no I will never be gay.
But I love her.
She always knows what I need to hear.
When I look like I have never looked in a mirror she still udders the word beautiful
And knowing that I will never believe it she still tries.
She is just as stubborn as I am,
And she has dedicated countless hours to repairing me,
The job you always said you’d take in the first place.
Telling me that the most broken are the most beautiful.
And I know that is true,
Because she is broken just as much as I am.
She has put her problems aside for me,
Spent countless hours rewiring the desire to go back to you.
And now I cannot help but realize that I deserve better.
To the boy who broke my heart I am happy now.
I am enjoying the small things for the very first time.
As we go camping and I show her the best way to light a fire,
And she does my makeup to where for a moment I feel I am beautiful.
The Monsters cracked after we have stayed up for an exam,
The late night conversations that are always the ones most memorable.
These are the best moments of my life,
And they weren’t shared with you.
To the boy who first broke my heart.
Thank you.
But gratitude is not forgiveness, and I would not advise coming near me again.
Because she has had a target on your head since the very first tear.
And I know that even when you’re gone she will always have my back
Because that is what true friends do.
To the girl who has made my life complete –
I adore you.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Now you see, just hold on a minute there
I can’t- for the sake of hearing people- say I love
shooting my ears out, bleeding myself deaf.
I don’t but I am deaf.
I can’t- for the sake of heterosexuality norms- say I love
feelings boiling to the surface for girls and boys.
I don’t but I am queer.
I can’t- for the sake of masculinity- say I love
good eye for fashion, rather than football.
I don’t but I am genderless.
Did the lightbulb flash above your head,
******* therapist
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 1:34 AM UTC
I’m lying in bed staring at the imperfect ceiling
Headphones in my ears, arms above my head on the bare mattress.
My face is trembling, begging my mind to stop the pain.
It comes in flashes.
I see you, always you, nothing but you.
I have a horrible, down right terrible memory,
never , have I ever, seen an image oh so vivid.
Every feature from your Hair, to your Face, to your Body.
How.I.Tremble.
The energy cannot be contained
How do I release something Like this!?
I want you.
Everything.
Your Physicality.
Your Spirituality.
Your family.
Your lust.
You.
Why!?
There’s not a **** logical reason.
I saw you.
I read you.
I felt you.
And ever since I have wanted you.
But I can’t.
Society has its laws.
And heterosexuality, simply cannot cross the boundaries of
homosexuality.
So go.
Get
GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD.
GET OUT
GET OUT
GET OUT
Stop torturing me.
You're not evil, so why do you do this to me?!
I’m done.
Either confront me,
or tell your demons to leave me alone...
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
They asked us to think of the person we respected the most in our lives.
Once we had that person in our thoughts they continued,
"Now, write a letter to them coming out"
My throat hitched and I felt my chin start to quiver,
One kid called out, "But I'm not gay?"
That isn't the point of the exercise, Michael.
My mother always told me when I cried my chin looked like a walnut because of the way I scrunched it up in attempt to keep from sobbing.
And in that moment I knew my chin was contorting into a nut and my eyes began to burn,
Because am I?
The constant names and ridicule, "You're a **** *you're a **** **you're a **** spit at me like venom after I donated my hair,
The family jokes of, "So you have a boyfriend yet?"
No.
"A girlfriend then?"
The countless times I have walked downstairs in the morning only to hear my mother say, "You look like a lesbian" and laugh because I didn't feel like putting on makeup that day.
I had spent my entire high school career terrified of the thought of being gay.
But so what?
What if I am?
Why does it feel like being gay is wrong?
The word "gay" is used as an insult time and time again.
If you're not straight then you're not normal.
Normal?
We have to crush this assumption that heterosexuality is a must, that it's the norm.
The LGBTQ community needs you.
We need acceptance.
Someone should not feel threatened due to their sexuality.
That exercise, of writing a letter to your idol coming out, shouldn't even need to exist.
Coming out shouldn't be so scary, so difficult.
We need to learn and to accept one another.
We can't place such negative connotations about being gay, or trans, or pan, or bi, or anything but straight and cis into the youths head,
because then they end up terrified and confused,
just as I was.
Please,
We need to save these kids.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
The willingness to speak objective truths!
Born out of the prejudice in experience.
He is no god, but a man who speaks to you.
The people, who are proud to be Americans.
He is our ruler, in Trump we trust.
The abused, the lied to and put in harms way.
The dead homosexuals and Christians.
The ministry of truth, the CNN.
The white lynching at the protests.
And the weak Clintonites are abandoning ship!
Had she won, we would stay and endure.
They run, we stayed under Obama.
The dead are finally leaving.
Lets see if Trudeau can treat them better.
He is hard spoken, harsh and a man of the people.
Build the wall! More like fix the wall.
Deport the illegals, they are not Americans.
Stop the muslims who are killing my people.
This is not out of hate, but love. My love for truth and happiness.
Maybe now we can have a country that values both.
Not a lying ***** who silences **** victims.
Oh, give me strength!
Strength! To save our childrens schools!
Strength! To save our children from hate!
Love! to bring love, not resentment for humanity!
O, give me truth. The truth that humanity is not horrible.
That my whiteness is not a feature to describe me.
That my heterosexuality is not a privilege.
That I find my own life, not the lives of the pacific.
Give us, to trust our country to a man who has raised successful children.
Let him be our role model, not that which seeks to lecture me on sexism.
God political poems are trash. Just like your hatred. Let it go, only admonish the actions.
It's current year.
**** Obama for campaigning for his replacement.
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
in the same way you do not choose your ****** orientation, you do not choose whether or not you accept the status quo as is.
if you cannot enjoy a typical wage labor 9 to 5, that is just as much a part of your personal physical constitution as **** or heterosexuality. Just as much as there is a physical difference between the brain of the poet and the brain of the CEO, the gay and the straight, the Buddhist and the Christian, the average and the post-traumatic, the loose and the fundamentalist, the oppressed and the oppressor, the man and the woman.
our world is built on generalization. if it cannot define you as wide, it will narrow and narrow and narrow until the grand generalization can enslave the marginalized categories to it's non-existent objectivism.
God is dead. By God, Nietzsche meant mans search for objectivity.
unlock the *******
door
and burn
your worthless
commandments.
they mean nothing
unless someone agrees.
and they can only
agree
for so
long.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
In my world,
we aren’t allowed to love men if we’re women,
In my world,
we aren’t allowed to love women if we’re men.
It used to be that it was wrong for men to love men,
or women to love women,
It used to be frowned upon for them to get married,
the way we do so often.
“God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve,”
protestors used to claim.
But according to their beliefs,
God created everyone the same.
I couldn’t imagine waking up without the love of my life,
next to me every day,
Her warm arms wrapped around me;
our bodies lying in a tangled array.
My brother couldn’t imagine waking up without the love of his life,
next to him every morning,
Or going to sleep without him,
for without his husband he is nothing.
Plato said that Zeus struck the humans with four arms and four legs,
with two hearts and two faces,
For he feared their power and condemned them
to search for their soul mates embraces.
If Plato is right and we are split into two halves
why did they used to think it meant opposite sexes?
If in mitosis a cell produces an exact copy of itself
why didn’t they think it meant same sexes?
But perhaps it is wrong for us to conclude
that heterosexuality is so unacceptable,
If now we think it is so ridiculous
that homosexuality used to be considered terrible.
r.f.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
It is not my instinct to love a woman
who speaks with ease
It is not my instinct to love a spider
who hunts in trees,
But I
could tell you one thing:
When I was young,
I hated spiders
I also hated cooked carrots
Then I learned
to give things a second chance
How do you do?
I might fancy you...
or him, or her
or them
What was once detested
is now invested
in my meal
in my life
Who was once just a passerby,
I now sit and wander why
not infuse love in them?
Like tasting new fruit,
Like trying new things,
Must we always reject
what remains
after we cast out our pleasures
and resist our pains?
Could a man's lips to a man
be something so vein?
A woman's ******* in her hand,
something so insane?
We fear what we cannot grasp
We laugh at what is not funny
We do what we are habituated to,
but life is more than old and new
Acceptance is obtained
when one accepts
When one accepts,
they can run miles,
can be anything, anyone
What fun!
Gayety is great
*** is good
Different kinds of trees
make different kinds of wood
When one learns about wood
all wood seems good,
because all wood is good
After realizing this fact,
a weight is lifted
off the shoulders
and into the light,
where all can see
Those left behind,
will worship ancient shrines
with answers from yesterday
yearning to explain today
Those picky,
those sickly,
the one's who hate veggies
the one's who can't see
what a shame to be...
To dismiss the colour pink
when one grows up as a tomboy;
as a stubbornness
with a covenant
of no change
Homosexuality as a learned behavior,
Heterosexuality as an instinct;
Objektophilie...
vise versa, vise versa:
who cares! Nowhere
Like tasting new fruit,
the acceptance of taste
will form
what was never there before
If not,
this fruit will disappear,
never to exist in your presence
without hate
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
619 Miles
9 hours and 38 minutes
The distance that separates myself and the girl
I can’t take my mind off of.
Because
It is said that for one person
There is another built to fit perfectly
Woven together on a planet of billions
A soul mate.
Now that is cheesy and completely absurd,
Especially for an asexual….
But I’ve never felt this way,
About anyone.
Especially not….a girl.
Heterosexuality has been the one term that has defined me
My whole life.
For 14 years I was sick at the idea of being anything but.
But that word is floating further into oblivion.
Echoes of my parent’s homophobic hatred.
Palms start to sweat as I blush like crazy,
Staring at a computer screen that has never been more important
My heart seems to leap out of my chest.
And, it is just so absurd for me to feel this way,
Because she is just so amazing,
And I am average at best.
But it is insane for me to care about her as much as I do.
Having known her for 24 hours
But she gets me, through each letter we seem to read unwritten messages.
As I get to learn more and more about her
The more I wish she was here.
Because she is the one girl I’d actually take the chance with
The one I wouldn’t be afraid to tell my parents about.
My chance to escape this closet I've hidden in my whole life,
And it is impossible to comprehend
How she could ever feel the same way.
Why she would ever feel the same way.
Because 9 hours and 38 minutes
The distance that separates myself and the girl
I can’t take my mind off of.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
It would be so easy
To throw the towel in
And call it a life.
I can’t turn on the television
Because every “Breaking News” story
Makes me cry.
How can I go about my day
Listening to people complain about cold coffee
When a lover is dead
And nothing stays still for a moment?
How do we live like this?
It feels as though my body is collapsing into itself,
An eternal void of instability,
A black hole for wisps of passion.
How do I live like this?
I have known the love of strangers
Thousands of miles away
In bars and silent living rooms.
I have known quiet love,
Felt the fingertips of men sure in the simplicity
Of heterosexuality.
I have known quiet love,
But never the fingertips of women
Terrified of themselves because
They’ve been told they are wrong.
I don’t always have the courage to stand,
And we all know that it is easier to submit.
The true test of human endurance is the ability
To be beaten down time and time and time again
And always get back up.
I’m still standing,
With sore feet and a broken heart.
We are all still standing.
Except for the ones that aren’t.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
*we just provide the bang, you provide the number of bangs as necessary to craft an execution of poetic extinction via ideology of supposed "survival" with executing the myth of Dr. Faust, because too ridiculous, which begs the question: so Darwin and the Galapagos turtles isn't a good joke akin to some pervert inspecting butterflies who turned out to be a ********** - because of that cherry skin buttocks?*
all this LGBT thing going on
doesn't appeal to me to
reproduce, i just can't be bothered to get married,
i can't be bothered feeding
heterosexual labour
with the end product being higher prostitution
of surrogate mothers,
you have the power to grow ***** into
foetuses and designer babies, i'm not
necessary given this passive-peace;
i'm liberal up to a point,
after that something horrid takes over...
leave me alone, get the ***** bank to be completely activated
and surrogate mothers the new prostitutes accomplish
a new stratum of earning and spending:
heterosexuality is dead...
or if alive it's what enslaves...
i'm no longer the necessary the body to provide
choice, science over-powered man,
not unlike man over-powering nature
akin to china and india,
but over-powering nature unable
to out-number nature's example of ant of termite;
oh indeed the power, and family as pathological...
enslaving nature limits our growth,
liberating nature dis-inhibits a care to gain power over
when still the earthquake and tornado and hurricane...
science is merely millimetre and a gram!
why take faith in itemisation of such nature
when satiated with dinner you take the dog for a walk
and still look into the distance without clear
dissection - because you do not dissect a living thing,
and when science dissects, it presuppose the thing
to be dead, whether dead or alive, but in chemistry
and physics the thing is either too ridiculous to be alive '
or too grand to be alive -
yet the popularisation of a biological theory
is like the birds & the bees, and the hives, and the candlestick
wax made from pollen of what could have been honey...
biologists are the nazis among scientists,
because, i mean, they're not exactly surgeons,
or medical students, are they? they're about as useful
as psychologists when you have historians
and literature students to make the healthier point of huh?
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
Britney Spears
The queen of conformity
Heterosexuality
The ****** of ******
Excuse my French I beg
But she is the angel
O death
For many girl starve
Or murderthem selves because of her
She is my most hate celebrity
And people argon poor marylin manson
Tics.
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 11:34 AM UTC
1/25/2017
the sky melted, sweating glass
for three days straight-
once, we marveled at the inexorable and eventual
at
the drop that makes the bough
bow.
i remember the ache
of the sunlight on my
crooked nape
one May day . We sit in a January cafe
"It is springtime," she announces
except these days, it's no emotional pantomime, not a hopeless mantra
"and why?" I beg a question
"oh, because something's starting"
she mixes milk into her honey
it is too sweet for me
the umbrella opens in the shop
"put that away, it's a bad omen" oh, as if I care
imagine me so treacly?
she talks about pregnancy and politics
about marriage
and something in me,
i realize
wants to be, is disgusted by my far future maternity
at the supermarket
there's a jingle
hey, mom, what's for dinner?
"Uh, hey, I feel like Plath... marriage is oppression and all that"
"Well, join the club. Oh, domesticity-"
"O'Hara said : There is only one man I like to kiss,"
I misquote, intentionally.
"*Heterosexuality!
you are inexorably approaching!*"
perhaps we can't wait
to be thirty and bored
with three kids
watching them play at the Minetta
wondering where the hell our time went
and there they'll sit
polish- to her irish, italian- to my puerto rican
new jersey mutts
i laugh
thinking of drunk days down on
53rd and Lex
we're not ready to live like it's 1953
*oh, johnny promised me
and i wear his
ring*
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
I never realized the discontent within me
or, I did, and I ignored it, happy to shut it out
when my soul didn't fit the definition of woman that God provided
I told myself, actually told myself, that I could be a man of Christ
and I held to that in the quiet of my heart, silently
When I was little I used to pray to God that he would make me a boy
I used to cry myself to sleep because there didn't seem to be a solution
there was no way, except for a miracle, maybe one day
I'd wake up and everything would feel right
and as my hips grew in I couldn't help feeling upset
that my jeans would never sag and I would never be angular
I didn't know that blocking out these thoughts wasn't normal
I didn't know that most everyone didn't have these thoughts
I used to dream about growing out my beard
I only watch straight **** and I'm not sure why but I think
it's because I have never seen myself as a woman
I used to play outside with my shirt off, fighting off the dog with my 'spear'
I thought I was a warrior, I thought I was a king
I thought I was one of God's golden angels
I thought my voice was low when I began to sing
I made friends with boys and had crushes on girls
just like all the other boys
and when they left me it was the saddest thing
My teachers told me I should just play with the girls
and I cried. What child, when told to wear a dress,
tells her mother that it was the worst day of her life?
What child wants to grow out her leg hair and have pecs, not *****
what child wants short hair and a beard and narrow hips
what child wants to kiss girls in a chivalrous manner, not
like a woman stealing a girl away from her heterosexuality,
what child feels like she's in a costume when she dresses up
and wears makeup, what child immediately removes her nail polish?
who am I? Am I who they say I am?
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC