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When looking through a folder of poetry on my laptop, I stumbled upon a poem I wrote during my junior year of high school. It was an assignment for an acting class I was taking at the time and had to be influenced by some aspect of a play we chose to read. This poem was inspired by The Laramie Project:
I never got the message.
Never learned my goddamn lesson.
I’m always second guessin’, and searching for protection.
Mixed up perception. So many endless questions.
I’m back to craving perfection; an endless cycle. An infection.
I’m longing for the day when I can stomach my reflection.
Accepting who I am might be my only concession.
And maybe I’ll do myself the favor of relinquishing obsessions.
I’m done with praising queens, I want a prince.
I want two kids, a dog, a white fence.
But who I am right now prohibits this.
This white America we live in is pure shit.
I’m so confused I can’t even think straight.
Uncommon love won’t allow me to procreate.
A punishment for choosing the wrong soul mate.
A realization that damages my poisoned mental state.
I’m currently suffering from a severe case of self-hate.
Wondering why I was chosen to carry this weight.
This burden. This sin. This abomination.
This consuming and sinful infatuation.
Can you imagine it?
Loving someone, but having to hide it.
Out of fear of all the homophobic shit.
All the “it’s a phase, you’ll get over it.”
And the “You’re not born that way, you chose it.”
And the “No marriage for you. You’ll ruin it.”
Society equates my love with pure shit, so tell me, why the hell do you think I would choose this?