Oh tenderly evolving soul and mind
You are ripe for retrieval.
There was a time
When I was young
And I had my wits about me
Then I met them -the adults
Who terribly confused me
I believed I was gay
And was going to be murdered for it
Now I’m neither gay nor not gay
And I do and am attracted to females
Though I’m a lover of men too
And a lover of women.
Also, I am scared hurt- of all of the above
Relaxing into myself
For fear of being tortured or murdered for it.
Because my father and the adults and the media told me so.
Now I don’t even really know what gay is, and these boxes for me aren’t of interest to me anyways. How do I survive? By healing the shadow of my sexual -gay- confusion.
What is it to be gay, in your words? To sexualize men. Have you done this? I have imagined it for sure. Does it seem real? Kind of, yes, perhaps. I don’t know, I love them. Isn’t love sufficient? Why does love have to get all confusing and sexual? Am I gay? I don’t now. I don’t think so. NO!
Why not? What is that? A label? Yes. A derogatory statement? Was. A fearful statement? Indeed. A heroic action? Always. To be you. To be true is always heroic.
Why do you worry about being gay? Because if I’m gay I may be tortured and killed.
What again is gay? Gay is sex.
Androgyny? A spectrum of sexuality.
Like you? Yes, like me.
So, I’ll ask you again. Are you gay? No, I am not.
And what they think of you is of no concern to you, correct? Right, or wrong? But I want their approval.
No you don’t. Really? Still? Yes no maybe so. Okay no. Not anymore. Especially not if you wan tto put me into a box and make me guilty and torture and murder me because of it. So I am free?
I believe so. That is all?