I like statistics and I’m relying on data, my logic is

probably the lunchroom is full of a couple dozen gay kids thinking

damn, I hate how everybody here is straight

probably pinning their lips shut when the topic turns to love

probably keeping their mouths closed like the closet doors

they’ve been staring at the back of.


at least I hope there’s a couple dozen kids like that

cause otherwise it’s just me and my fat yapping trap

I’ve been trying to limit

to a couple jokes a month maybe, cause after all

poking fun is the only time we’re allowed to talk about this stuff

before everyone pulls out the big guns

and I stop being just some kid in the lunchroom

and become that poor lost girl who struggles with same sex attraction.


but if I’m a sinner I’d rather be a prodigal son than a repentant daughter

rather be an honest martyr than a safe liar

living life half fulfilled, one foot in the grave.


but I’m putting on a brave face.

deep down it’s clear I haven’t got the guts to open up,

even when the stakes are lower than low, even when i know

these people are “totally cool with queers.”


well, maybe I’m not.

maybe I’m the homophobe, have I ever thought of that?

maybe these self loathing attacks are the secret ramblings

of a fundamentalist with a shotgun hidden inside.

maybe all the tears I’ve cried are hangman’s nooses

or maybe I’m just thinking up excuses.


it’s just the older I get the more I realize that society hates people like me

and the way I worship society

it’s pretty easy to think God hates me too.

then again, don’t we all

pray at altars made of normalcy?

aren’t the holiest works of scripture the confessions scribbled

on bathroom tiles?


love letters and lamentations scrawled

on the suicide hotline posted on the stall,

well here’s my confession to add the the wall

as i hide in my dingy cubicle,

waiting for everyone to leave so I can finally catch my breath:

 I am the kid in the lunchroompinning my lips shutkeeping my mouth closed,and now I am a kid in a bathroomwhere I don't belong.

This poem is about: 
My community


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