This is my gay poem

My poem about pride

And about finally coming out to my parents after 23 years

But you know some news falls on cotton-filled ears

Never bothering to ask where they got the cotton from.

And I haven’t seen my father since then

And I am holding on to the few memories where I was happy at home

Where I didn’t want to leave

Where I didn’t want to leave

Where I didn’t want to die

I was still a child the first time they said they hate gay people

I was 11 when I first remember thinking they were right.

And every year after I hid deeper and deeper until I was drowning

Until my lungs were screaming out for air

And I never looked back

Or at least I could never go back

But sometimes I miss a cute scarf or hat I left in that closet and have to convince myself I am better off without them

No matter how safe they made me feel

Or how warm the fabric

But I shattered that closet

It doesn’t exist

I threw a brick through its doors

And Martha P. Johnson did it first

And we will continue to throw bricks

Until they finally stop killing us

Until we stop counting hate crimes like sheep

Just to fall back asleep

I want to know that Matthew Shepard and so many others didn’t die for nothing

That we won’t give up fighting

Ever

And there is an inferno on the tip of my tongue that burns even the darkest poems

And I will write and I will scream

And I will read poem after poem after poem or however long it takes for the world to see that Black Lives Matter

That trans lives matter

And that every queer child is worthy of love and acceptance,

or at least the promise that they won’t be hunted for who they love.

And it’s not fair that the religion of love spreads so much hate

And it’s not fair that those concerned for the children would rather them die than be gay.

And it’s not fair for your parent to be your first real bully

But more often than not that’s the reality for men like me

And I think fathers are afraid that to love another man

Means allowing another man to treat you the way they treat women

As if somehow being gay means I will be less of a man

That I won’t have the privileges of a man

But I am still just a man

Whatever that really means

And a man never hits a woman

That I know for sure

But a man doesn’t hit his boyfriend either

Love isn’t a game of who wins first

It is an agreement to love at the same time

In unison

In harmony

Through all the key changes and tempo shifts.

Not that my parents taught me much about love

Just to know when to let go of it

And my parents were the first people I ever loved but also the first I thought would kill me.

And children will listen

When you say fags like me should be imprisoned for existing

Some words can never be forgotten

And some emotions can only be described as sad

Though sad isn’t a big enough word to cover it.

And gay is synonymous with happy

Which is so ironic

But also makes so much sense

Like how a rainbow is a sign from god

To never flood us again

To never massacre his people again

And we are a reminder of that promise

That god is love

And we are love

And love is so gay

And we love so deeply

Because you have to love this much

This helplessly and hopefully

To risk this much in pursuit of it.