The reflection in the mirror is not me
For it is just a reflection, it does not show who I am
Who am I meant to be?
How do I know who I am?
Is the bruises and pain worth it?
Broken bones and skin and get beat
Or words than pull you down
Broken spirit and heart and a shameful crown
The way I walk, the way I smile, and the way I say
Was it because I was born this way
The way I am, the tone of my voice
Oh believe me, it’s not my choice
If it is, do you think I’ll choose it
rejected by society, remove my rights, the way I get treat?
Discriminated, no one I can bond
Oh, it’s hard, do you not understand?
Maybe I should just end it all
All I need is a rope then jump
Or razor my wrist, or do drugs
Either way, I’m just trash in the dump
— uncut and unrevised. written by a friend who questioned his sexuality during algebra class, nearly 4 years ago .
after junior high school, he moved to a university while I stayed. we aren’t close as we used to be but conversations with him felt like he didn’t transfer. and I can tell he’s happy where he is. like any wounds, it took time to heal.
H A P P Y
P R I D E
M O N T H
E V E R Y O N E
you may question your sexuality but don’t question the love that’s around you. in any form of shape you are in, no matter who you want to be, there are still people who loves you unconditionally. remember that.