The closet for the stars.
This isn’t your 1800s Shakespearean poem. This is the 21s century rendition of the word Poetry. Type: Poem x story-telling. I hope you like it. Comment if you do. Let me know 🙂
The ’90s weren’t easy,
but then now is not very different.
When my father came out as gay
we had a long chat.
I’d grown up with two dads,
but I’d never questioned why my pigtails
were made with my father’s sturdy hands
when others had it soft.
One day in school made me question why.
When I asked,
he smiled and told me everything.
He told me about the ’90s
like it was a tragic song
with all rhyme but no reason.
‘I was in the closet for 20 years,
and it wasn’t just four wooden walls
grabbing my throats and suffocating me.
It was a Narnia of nightmares.’
Of course, he made fantasy references. I was five.
‘When I came out,
things were very different. Acceptance was
a choice. Not a human right.
It got better.’
He made me understand
everything wrong with ‘time’ when it was young
and made me believe
that things will always get better;
‘the star does not shine on its first day’.
When I turned twelve
and fell in love with my best friend,
But there was no closet for us stars anymore.
so I smiled and kept looking.
I found better friends
and they stayed.
‘Something is better than nothing’
my father used to say.
I guess we have the ‘something’ today.
It’s time for everything.
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“Labels are for jars, not for people.” – Anthony Rapp
Humans have judged and labelled other fellow beings since forever.
- It was impossible for her to step into her school without eyes following the curve of her ass. How was it that she had to throw out her skirts and wear pants that covered her legs and yet the eyes wouldn’t stop staring. She couldn’t wear the clothes she wanted, or get drunk at parties. She couldn’t dance her heart out, and not worry about the gawking men. She couldn’t talk to that cute guy across the hall, because of what she had to hear for the rest of the day. Slut.
- All his life, he’d hidden his secrets inside a dark closet. He had had a crush on this guy he’d been in the same class with for five years now. Unrequited love can make you feel devastated, but it’s worse when the other person doesn’t even know about it. Eventually, he did think it would be okay to tell people the truth. It was a catastrophe. He lost all his friends, and was made fun of for months. He had to change schools and start anew in a better place. It still rings in his ears though. Gay.
- You remember that woman who was thirty and wore over-sized tees and baggy pants? It bummed you not to be able to see how big her breasts were, and so you just never spoke to her. You called her names to satisfy your ego, and then laughed about it with your buddies. Remember how she dressed up just once for the re-union party, and your jaw dropped? You could smell the happiness she brought into the room, together with coconut scented shampoos, and luscious lips. And you called her an attention seeker, because she wouldn’t flirt back with you.
- Who knew it was a terrible thing to be black in sun-drenched “developed” cities? I am black, and human. My skin is dark, and that’s why I could not join my college football team. My skin is dark, and that’s why I was supposed to be okay with sitting in terrible seats while the others got the best. My skin is dark, and that’s why I was denied the job I was most efficient for. Fancy starlit cities weren’t the heaven they were referred to as, or are blacks not allowed in heaven? Please do help me understand.
The world is becoming a better place, but we still cannot overlook any injustice being done to someone else.
To the people who judge and label, just stop.
To the people who are judged and labelled, stay happy. Let them judge, while we strive for happiness and actually be happy. I promise to you, that this life is wonderful if you choose to make it one. I love you all.
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