Fix your reaction time.

How quickly your hand

drops hers when their eyes

pin you down on the streets

 

Fix your hands.

Calloused from balling them up into fists

too many times

Please, stop doing this to yourself

you are too young to be fighting this war

of self-attrition.

 

Your hands aren’t meant to shut out

the world, you need to

open up your palms and accept

the way her fingers make you feel like

your hands are perfect for each other.

Hers, the melting butter, healing yours,

the burnt toast.

 

Feel the sensation on your fingertips

and pass on the love because even though they disagree,

Your heart is pure.

So lend them an open hand.

But when their words render you limbless you must

 

Fix that cowering body of yours

The one that says yes, I want to be wrapped around my girlfriend at night

and cut my nails short

and wear clothes that don’t broadcast my boobs

simply because I am comfortable, not because I’m queer.

Today your body is your home and your home

should not house lies.

 

Fix your home

Your mother’s reaction to the word gay.

So she stops seeing indefinite biblical verses

that imply your love is illegitimate and show her

your beating heart instead

the Picasso paintings of lipstick your sweetheart leaves on you

every morning because she would sacrifice the world

before saying you and your love

were anything but beautiful

 

Fix your father’s eyes because his glasses

don’t seem to do enough correcting.

Or maybe they do too much because nowadays,

all he can see are ways to correct

your abnormality

The disease that made his daughter

the subject of a million curious eyes.

 

Fix your attitude because

no one will fix it for you

you are not an anomaly,

the people you love are not hormonal impulses

With every silenced romance

love like yours have gone to the grave

but haven’t you had your pride buried

one too many times?

 

Fix your attitude

because no matter how hard you try

you'll never be able to hate yourself into

something you’ll finally love