it’s odd to grow up believing your only non-privileged quality is your gender, and then to one day discover you’re much more a minority than you’d thought

there are times
I’m just sitting in a theatre
the dull roar before the show
standing invisible in a crowded room
lost among the real ones and their friends
gliding unseen down a noisy hallway
laughs and curses ringing from wall to wall from pole to bloodied pole.
and it
Hits me;
there are people
in this very crowd
who think me a filthy sinner
just for being who I am.
if who we love were something we wore like our skin and our smiles
I’d be feeling the heaviness of stares
buried in the tight lipped judgements and false stupid prayers
by total strangers.
It makes me sick sometimes


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s