It's a historic day forusI refresh my Twitter feed again and again and it finally saysit's doneI want to cry but I can'tmy mother sits a few feet away unaware later when the TV is on, there's silenceI walk past, determined not to show anything on my faceeven as she looks at me from the side of her eyesI want to cry but I can'tbecause even if I don't tellit seeps out of meand at some level they knowbut they are better than me at denialwe share the same geneswe share the same tactics but I can feel myself strugglingI let words slip out of my mouth sometimesTorn between wanting everyone to know and hiding till I dieI talk about women and how beautiful they arecautiously, as if I am jealousI talk about how unfair it isfor themto be denied the freedom to loveI congratulate otherswhile screaming inside'I AM ONE OF YOU'but todaysuddenlyimpulsivelystupidlyI want to screamYES I LIKE GIRLSYES I DREAM ABOUT KISSING THEMYES I USED TO BE IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIENDI too want to sing songs about the girl who smiled at me the other day and made it all betterI too want to draw pictures of curly hair and bright smiles and hands that touch my cheeks gentlyI too want to write poems about being heads over heels in love and gush about it to my friendsI want to celebrate too but I can'tI want to cry but I can'tSo I wait and at night, under the covers, I finally crythey are tears of joy and they are tears of despairI cry looking at the jubilant faces of peoplebrave brave peoplebraver than mewho have worked for thiswho have marched the streets wearing their colourswho have braved the disdain and violencewho have refused to let themselves die insideIt's a historic day forthem one dayI will celebrateI will cryand they will be tears of joyonly Fig is a big fan of cats, studio ghibli and writers who can describe food vividly.
a historic day
A short poem for September 6, 2018
I Believe in the Promises Made by Passing Strangers: Cruising and the City Leaving behind the threshold of our homes, what other bounda…
Small Doubts : Went On A Date, But Not Feeling It. Should I Ghost or Do I Say Something? To ghost or not to ghost?
What Does Queerness Care About Productivity? A Poem The mind was kept busy while the body craved attention. The…