Existence (n.): in its most generic terms, it is the ability to, directly or indirectly, interact with reality or, in more specific cases, the universe.
painted lips and stuttering breaths
cataclysms that destroyed morality
we were well versed in the literature of secrets
and brewing storms with our gasps
my legs around her waist
her hands in my hair
and thunder in our veins
she’s been whispering lipsticks marks below my ears since years
i like to leave the scent of my fingertips
pressed on the nape of her neck like flower petals
because even though my heart beats
in the same rhythm as her eyelashes blink
my girlfriend is still the only one person i’ve friend zoned
but just for the rest of the world
just until the doors close.
i wear my pride t-shirt inside out
with the rainbow nestled against my chest
like the north star in the crook of the moon
and wear black on the outside
when the door latches shut
the spaces between my fingers
and filled by a boy
i keep my hair short and face clean
but in that march
i painted seven colors on my cheek
and shouted for freedom
you can make me wash off the glitter in the bathroom sink
but what will you do
when one day
we all stand up and declare-
“we’ve marched enough
it’s time to plant our feet now”
right on your sacred land.
“i mean, you still like men, don’t you?”
“at least you can marry a guy”
you’re not wrong
if one steals my heart
but my choices are my choices
whether you understand or not
i will love who i love
your dreams will stay
because you see my future
in black and white
but I want to color it
in seven shades of the rainbow.
makeshifts roofs under highways
and sleeping bags ridden with holes
stuffed in corners of dark tunnels
is still better than a crib of gold
where my identity is based on others’ perceptions
because of what i was born with between my legs
like a tight corset i didn’t ask for
suffocating me in its grasp
no, thank you
i’ll take dumpster diving three times a day
than being treated like garbage
for wearing binders instead of skirts
i’d rather be a ‘sewage rat’, ‘unholy’ and ‘filthy’
at least you’ll refer to me with the pronouns i wanted
don’t you see?
that’s all i wanted all along.
lighters and matchsticks
hearths and bonfires
infernos erupting from volcanoes
or stones rubbing to create sparks
a million fires burn through the planet
in different shapes and sizes
but they have the same flame underneath
and they will keep burning.
Pride month is over. We celebrated, had rainbow shots, ate rainbow cupcakes and waved around our flags. Some of us wore a wristband or bracelet out in the open. Others drew a pride symbol on the inside of their sleeves. One way or another, it’s working. Our resilience is working. Our very existence is a threat to the homophobes, and that’s one thing they cannot wipe off.
We have celebrated a month. Now let’s celebrate the rest of the year. We’re still allowed to be who we are. We’re still allowed to exist. So now that Pride Month is officially over, let me be the first to wish you- HAPPY PRIDE YEAR. RAISE YOUR HEADS AND CONQUER 2018. THIS IS THE ‘GAY AGENDA’. SHOVE IT IN THE FACES OF BIGOTS. LET’S PAINT THE WORLD IN OUR COLORS.
For real tho. Stay strong, stay proud.
PS: There are so many more gender identities and sexual orientations that I did not represent in my poems and I’m truly sorry about that. I will get to them eventually. (: