Preface this with, I process through poetry,
second, I speak only for me,
three, ugh I’m scared of being honest,
maybe the time will never be right
(fight flight fight)
but I was a kid
told I’d one day
be just like my parents,
a chain in generations
clear through the afterlife
and we’d all be
in heaven
(if we didn’t choose anything bad).
But I was a teen
figuring out I was gay
and in this religion at this “tolerant” day,
you can be gay
you just can’t do anything gay
unless you wanna
give up heaven.
That’s the crux of this (ahem) cross,
if you want heaven,
you can’t do you;
if you do you,
you lose out on your family in heaven.
But maybe that doesn’t hit home,
so let’s switch
this story:
you can be straight
but you can’t
date
marry
have baby
hold hands in public
admit you have a celebrity crush
or you won’t find yourself in heaven.
Which one
will you pick?
Or, here’s your third option:
gaslight.
Maybe the afterlife has truths we don’t understand,
maybe who we are matters less than we think cuz we’ll all end up the same,
maybe both sides will make sense like a coin one day,
maybe we’re all screwed anyway,
just hold on and hold on and hold on,
but one lesson
feels like the sun
cresting over a horizon.
The honest light
comes killing shame,
I make my own holy name,
if no one’s here to love you,
I do.
***
header photo by: Jessica Lewis ud83eudd8b thepaintedsquare on Pexels.com
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