There's no changing me:


I'm not a little girl anymore. Meaning, I no longer skip in your footsteps, i find my way around them. You can point me in the right direction, but that doesn't necessarily mean i'll follow. Because i can't help but take my heart by the hand and let it lead me. My compass told me to go east, But I'd rather go west. Not right, But left. So call me wrong. If life had a map, you’d have an excuse. But since it doesn’t, I'm just trying to make an adventure of it.

Things change and people change.

With that being said, I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you expected as of age 14. But in her eyes, I'm better than she ever wished as of forever.

There are times I can't help but think of how things would be if you actually accepted me. Waking up each day, feeling like I might actually be doing something right. Or going to bed feeling loved. Facing less punishment but more rewards. Thinking just maybe, It's okay for me to love those who are just like me.

& No, your 5 month check up during pregnancy did not deceive you, i am a women. Im just not daddy's little girl. I am another girls, girl.

This is not a phase... Phases are temporary & Theres no expiration date on my ways.

So throwing the bible in my face 25/8 is not doing anything.  Stop expecting change. In this situation, there's no such thing. Because this is not a choice, but if it was it would be what I choose.

You drag me to church on sundays, knowing i'm a sinner. You claim i need jesus, but yet i'm going against his expectations. If god didn't want me this way, he wouldn't have made me this way. & with you being so christian, I would expect you of all people to know only he can judge me.

In case you're wondering... yes, I like girls who like girls who also like girls... I'm no type of straight.. I'm as curvy as the image reflected in a mirror. The same mirror I dread seeking myself in, because of the monster you make of me. I'm ashamed of myself.

I feel as if you stripped my image for its color. You have taken the life out of me. Instead of a bright painting. I'm black and white. You believe in interracial commitments but are against same sex relationships. I believe in happiness, But am against those who treat me as a misfit. & How do you believe in something you don't even practice.

So if someone was to ask my father why he disowns me he would open the bible up Leviticus 18:22, with confidence and quote "Do not practice homosexuality, having sex with another man as with a woman. It is a detestable sin."

But this is one of my many sins. I would rather be myself, or No one at all. Lord forgive me. But I will not waste my entire life paraphrasing a book written over 205 of my lifetimes ago. 

You're pushing me away. So far away - I've isolated myself & taken 3 words into consideration, that are so strong they could make hell sound like a good place.

I hate you.

Those 3 words a mother never expected to hear from a innocent child of hers.

I've been cornered, no where to go. I feel so alone. Each scar on my body has a story of it's own. But every mark from my inner elbow, down... I could have carved your name. Every cut shown. You were the person to blame.

Let's role play. Mom, sketch a line on my wrist & label it. & dad you act as the sharp object. Giving me guidance. Like back in pre k.

Put me out of my misery, end this pain. You have manipulated others into thinking I'm insane. I'm not insane... I just want you guys to love me, the way You loved me, before You knew the real me. I'm still the same person. The same person, I just like the same people. & Same love is not forbidden.

I want you to appreciate my bravery. And love me for the front i hold up, just to please you. Can you feel my pain yet? Its like having paper skin and glass bones.  I want you to feel sympathy down your spine. Like how I feel disappointment down mine. Can You feel the hurt rolling off my taste buds? Trace each letter in order to experience my pain. I'm curious, if I wrote these words in a book and titled it Christianity, would You read?

Apparently I'm not speaking loud enough for you to comprehend my words.

I am lesbian. Once again, I'm sorry dad. But I am who I am. There's no changing me. Not even fine print in a very popular book will change my mind set. Nor will the snickers of you and your church folk..

So i’ll continue poisoning the holy water on sundays and whether this poem ends with an a’men,

i really don’t care,

because i love my women.


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