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Juliana Oct 2020
I’m obsessed with fictional characters.
There’s just something about knowing nothing’s real,
and having the solace that any misfortune
goes away when you close the page,
and any joy you can take with you on your day.

On days like today, I need that.
I need to jump into a book,
to pretend like my world isn’t real,
like those that want to hurt the ones I love aren’t real,
that this hate, and injustice, and fear
is all just a figment of my imagination.

I shouldn’t beg for a fictional dictator to materialize into my world.
I shouldn’t believe that someone who was written to be evil
is better than those living.
But I do.

Because how can people be this evil.
How can there be this much hate?
How can people hurt others,
for what?
What do they gain by putting others down?
What do they gain by making the world a worse place?

…I don’t have an answer,
and I don’t think I want to know one.
All I know is that I’m going to keep fighting.
Today, and always,
until those I love, and those I will never get a chance to meet
have the same rights as everyone else.
Until the world is a place I want to live in.
Until the world is so perfect, it’s almost fictional.
Until I don’t want to leave.
LGBT+ Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter. For those hurting, I am here for you, I am with you. May the world be a better place tomorrow.
Beth Garrett May 2019
You pushed me from my home,
The moment you mentioned sanctity,
That I‘d be dirtying something,
If I touched it,
I’d be ruining it for everyone else,
If I took part,

But what is sanctity anyway?
Am I capable of being god’s child?
Must I strip back layers of my love first?
But can I love god,
If I cannot love myself?
Can I love myself,
If I am not myself?
I can’t help but love.
And I’d quite like to get married,
And maybe to have my first dance to Elvis,
And to throw the bouquet,
And to hear the words:
     “You may now kiss!”
Does that sound unclean to you?

I want to honeymoon, somewhere in Italy,
I want us to cook dinner for one another.
Is that impure?

I want to have and to hold in sickness and in health till death do us part.
Is that ******* *****?
Does it make you sick?

The moment this country said no,
You are not love,
You want,
To ****,
Love.
Even when other people were saying,
We understand you, you are good, you are clean,
You are love.

This stopped being my home,
You tore the ground from under me,
in the name of “sanctity”,
I’d love to stop being angry about it,
I would love to,
But my policy has not changed my policy has not changed my policy has not changed,
My policy will not change,
And that is all you and I will ever have in common.
I live in Northern Ireland where in 2019 gay marriage is still not legal. A prominent lgbt journalist and activist, Lyra McKee, was shot a few weeks ago. Northern Irish politician Arlene Foster in response to this said her party’s policy on gay marriage had not changed. This poem is my response to that statement.
Tieran Nickel Mar 2017
Equality
Has to be served
Gifted
'Cause it is deserved.

America is a place
To express
The emotions you face.
Inspired by "Democracy" by Langston Hughes
S Nov 2015
You're so greedy
They said
Pick a side
They said
You're such a ****
They said
Their words like knives
My blood spilling freely like insults from their mouths
I can't choose
I'll never choose
To choose would be to lose half of myself
All I want is to love freely
How can you hate my for that?
How can you cut me with your words and expect me to heal?
Nothing is wrong with me
Nothing is wrong with me except the deep cuts your words leave on my heart
I can't stop the bleeding;
The only way to stop it is to choose a side, but that would leave an even deeper scar
But
those knives were not aimed for me
No
they were aimed for the word above my head
What I call myself
My own label
Bisexual
I'm just the person below the word
My body taking the hits
Bruised and bleeding tears of frustration and sadness
The knives will not stop
Make them stop
Before my blood runs drier than the sand in the hourglass that is the only one that knows how much longer I can take the pain
Make them stop,
before it's too late

— The End —