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Sh Mar 2020
I have two things hidden in my closet:
Your birthday gift and my pride flags.

I ran to my room and tore them down from the walls the moment our company has arrived,
Preserving our doll house image.
The natural heterosexuallity I've learned to imitate.

So,
I suppose in a sense,
I have two gifts for you hidden in my closet.
Matthew Feb 2019
"I didn't know you were Queer."

What made you think I was straight?
Merry Sep 2018
Dear slender Aphrodite,
I have ne’er been overcome
With passionate, ****** longing
But I have felt the pursuit of the hunt
By Aries in Venus;
The child playing all is fair in love and war
But not a longing to disrupt
The weaving of thine words

“Do people really fall in love?”
Crooned the eccentric philosopher
David Byrne in hypnotic hymn
And in prismatic, psychedelic psalm
Avant-garde, aromantic heart
Expressions and impressions
That have etched upon my body
And become the truth that I accept

I have tasted the sweet of peaches
And I have felt the scalding of the sea
Lost in thought; all alone, but content
Yet the conclusions all draw back
To dulcet childhoods unfettered
By the snickering and abnormalities
That is infatuation ****** upon thee

“Raise boys and girls the same way”,
Jenny Holzer informed those in her bold dialogues
From commercial, photographic anonymity
But it is I, in gentle and embarrassed whimper,
Who would like to beseech of you
In sunny, platonic gesture
Tell boys and girls
They can be friends
Without it turning to wretched love
I wrote this for an assessment and got a distinction it.
Felicia Coffey Mar 2018
We live in a straight world.
You might not think it’s true,
“Gays are coming out everyday
could be them next or her,
maybe you too”
Well I’ll take a minute to prove it to you.

If I told you I’m into girls
I’d see your brain short circuit in real time,
“But you don’t look gay” you’d say.
“Straight passing” is what they call
a girl like me, who still looks feminine
but doesn’t want the D.

This “luxury” of remaining in the closet
is really hurting my game,
Added another straight boy
to my list of those who lost it
when they heard me exclaim,
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m gay”

Let’s not forget the most important issue
“Gays will ruin the sanctity of marriage”
Here, I’ll hand you the tissues.
Man and woman, hand in hand, till death do they part,
and yet more than half of all marriages
end in the perfected art of divorce.

Far be it from me,
to take anyone’s right
to do and say what they want,
while you embrace the hate
and live fighting the inevitable reality
of any queer couple tying the knot.

It might be 2018,
but I still can’t hold a potential partner’s hand
in a public facility
without getting disgusted leers
and a dreadful look at multiple cases
of unprovoked hostility.

So, try to look me in the eyes,
And tell me I’m not right.
But despite it all
I’ll keep my head up high
And let that rainbow flag fly
Because this might be a straight world,

But love is love

is love

is love.



And that concludes this winded verse.
I wanted to write something that showed the struggles of being non-straight within the LGBTQ+ community that still exist, even in 2018.
fairyenby Jul 2017
It drives me insane when people see me holding a girls hand and ask
“So who’s the guy? You know, who wears the pants?”
I want to scream and say WE ARE LESBIANS. Firstly, neither of us are ever wearing any pants. I want to scream and say WE ARE LESBIANS, and i’m angry because lesbian does not always have to mean woman but where did you get man from? I’m angry because maybe sometimes one of us does identify as a guy. A gay boi with an I. A soft boy. A proud hairy legged 5”4 boy. A drinking pints in the pub with my dad and us both liking that same woman’s tattoo boy. A cries every day boy. A feels cool when drinking beer boy. A boy that had to teach themself to like beer boy. A boy who sometimes does not feel like a boy. A boy. A boy. Oh boy. Boys. You see, this question is confusing for me because when I was fourteen, my boyfriend and I would joke that I was the one wearing the pants, even though at that point I was very much still wearing skirts and hiding behind ****-length hair and also watching the L Word in secret when I got home from school but that’s besides the point. This question is obviously as confusing for you as it is for me because in your mind you see two pairs of **** holding hands on the tube and think: Lesbians. Now, which one’s the man? And I think to myself, there are two ways to answer this: Number 1: So I know lesbian is supposed to mean woman on woman, two vaginas, *******, strap-ons, veganism, art degrees (and a lot of this is true but let’s not stereotype). So I know that to you, although we appear to be two women, two snap-back wearing, sports-bra bearing- I mean I thought about writing *****- tearing here but it just doesn’t seem appropriate- women, the funny thing is that erm, you see, gender and sexuality: as different as my dad to my mum’s other ex-husband. We are not a man and a woman. We are two people and what do pants have to do with it? We are two people and why does one of us always have to be a man? We are two people and the awkward part of the point i’m making is that sometimes I don’t feel like a woman but you wouldn’t know that so let me say: we are not a man and a woman. We did not ask for your confrontation, we are not your designated driver, your answer sheet to an exam you haven’t sat yet, your house party when your parents go away, your girlfriend that you think is obliged to **** your **** even though you will not go anywhere near her ****.  You are not our three year old son who asks too many inappropriate questions. To you, we are strangers and to answer your question, you seem to think that you’re wearing the pants here. So wear them. By the way, Number 2: *******.
this is a draft nd might be changed but also might not be so

yeah

I got angry again

x
fairyenby Jul 2017
No, you cannot join in.
Unless of course you also want the backlash that comes with kissing girls in public?
Take it-
please
share the homophobia.
I have had enough to last me 18 years of shame

no, this is not a game and you do not have the right to take photographs of me while I kiss her.
Unless of course you are a photographer  
here to celebrate our queer love in all of it’s natural beauty.  
For my love does not exist for your enjoyment
we are not the characters in your fantasy novel
my love is magical and you cannot publish it.
My love rains all over your non existent parade because your homophobia does not exist at pride

wide-eyed boys
encircle us as if to say that our mouths brush only so that they  
can paint the picture,
but you do not belong within my self portrait
you will not dip your ***** brush into my rainbow coloured paint set.
Clean your homophobia into the water
for our love is art
but you are not the artist
and my love is not yours to keep for later  
for wanking your anxieties into pleasure whilst you turn my pleasure, into anxiety.
This, is plagiarism.

Copyright my love.
For I should not have to be aware of who is watching
or pointing or shouting or stealing, my love.
So put your hand down your pants and think of your homophobia.  
No, you can’t come now
no, you cannot join in.
July 2016
Isabella Rizzo Feb 2017
They asked us to think of the person we respected the most in our lives.
Once we had that person in our thoughts they continued,
"Now, write a letter to them coming out"
My throat hitched and I felt my chin start to quiver,
One kid called out, "But I'm not gay?"
That isn't the point of the exercise, Michael.
My mother always told me when I cried my chin looked like a walnut because of the way I scrunched it up in attempt to keep from sobbing.
And in that moment I knew my chin was contorting into a nut and my eyes began to burn,
Because am I?
The constant names and ridicule, "You're a ****, you're a ****, you're a ****" spit at me like venom after I donated my hair,
The family jokes of, "So you have a boyfriend yet?"
No.
"A girlfriend then?"
The countless times I have walked downstairs in the morning only to hear my mother say, "You look like a lesbian" and laugh because I didn't feel like putting on makeup that day.

I had spent my entire high school career terrified of the thought of being gay.
But so what?
What if I am?
Why does it feel like being gay is wrong?
The word "gay" is used as an insult time and time again.
If you're not straight then you're not normal.
Normal?
We have to crush this assumption that heterosexuality is a must, that it's the norm.
The LGBTQ community needs you.
We need acceptance.
Someone should not feel threatened due to their sexuality.
That exercise, of writing a letter to your idol coming out, shouldn't even need to exist.
Coming out shouldn't be so scary, so difficult.
We need to learn and to accept one another.
We can't place such negative connotations about being gay, or trans, or pan, or bi, or anything but straight and cis into the youths head,
because then they end up terrified and confused,
just as I was.
Please,
We need to save these kids.
Akemi Apr 2016
Someone told me talking to women was completely different from talking to men
Familial desire circumventing physical rationality
I don't ******* get it
Flesh is flesh
There is no separation between this body and the next
No delineation save for my own arbitrary ones
This world is chaos bound by imposition
And none of it is real
I'm not even going to say middle class conceptions of family are constructs
Everything is a construct
Knowledge is anthropic chaos
Don't pretend you can tell the difference between essential existence and our subjective reordering of boundless matter
A gap does not form between a molecule of air and a molecule of flesh
I am trapped in my own sensations but I am not defined by them
So back to the story of material existence reduced to reproductive imperative
Treating all of the other *** as a means to displace one's self beyond annihilation into temporal infinity
Who ******* cares?
Legacy does not carry on after death
Legacy does not even carry through life
Language breaks down the moment we open our mouths
No one will ever view your life the way you view it
Splashing through a pool, ripples morph all reflections into monstrous amalgamations
Hey, tell me
Do you even remember yourself that clearly?
Hollow triumph, grandfather's bones in a grandfather clock ticking past twelve
Sorry, I just don't see the allure of treating half the human race as a means to satiate your own lust whether physical or genealogical
Or even categorising humans into binary dualisms that bored philosophers a century ago
Haven't you heard? God is dead
And there is no meaning to your boring male existence
3:52pm, April 10th 2016

Everyone is so ******* boring.
Trapped in traditions we dismantled two hundred years ago.
This heteronormative, andro-, euro-centric nothing view of ****, work, death. Blah ******* blah.
Stop imposing your sterile, bland patriarchal reactionist views on every ******* woman in existence.
Jesus ****.
I just don't.
I just ******* don't anything.
I just don't anything ******* just anything don't Jesus don't I anything
no no no no No no No no
stop stop stop stop stop stop stop
man wife man wife child man wife
playing in the garden, whee i'm an airplane, not aeroplane who the hell spells it aeroplane who even came up with that dad
well son, language is arguably an intersubjective field of interpreting the world into our subjective consciousness, with no core, filled with arbitrary signifiers to arbitrary signified concepts
but daddy, if everything is pointing to a concept, where does the real object come into--
shut your face timmy and go help your mother cook, until you reach the age of 16 when you must denounce all you learnt from your mother and become a real man who doesn't cook, and just lounges around and thinks 'golly, i sure wish i could be like my dad and wear a suit and lose all sense of self to the capitalist self-annihilating death machine of corporate hegemony'
yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
Kayla Nieto Nov 2015
They thought.
They thought I was just like them.
They thought that while they talked about boys I would care.
They thought I had a boyfriend.
I told.
I told them I was different.
I told them I could still listen to them talk about boys.
I told them I had a girlfriend.
They felt.
They felt that I was an alien.
They felt that I was a freak.
They felt they could never speak near me again.
They felt I should go to hell for my love.
I spread.
I spread love.
I spread acceptance.
I spread the idea that we could coexist.
I spread the love that I felt for my girlfriend.
They accepted.
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