Pride Collection

When The Road Split

My thoughts feel like the ground under my feet: dark and crumbling,

staying in one place because the pieces around them won’t let it move.

I paved the road of reasons that I could never be with a woman.

Reason 1: If a day came where my strength drained with the water in the tub,

only a man and his strong arms could lift my helpless body up.

Reason 2: A son and daughter can be easily made

from a man’s donation to my waiting womb.

Reason 3: The proud titles to bear are Husband and Wife.

There can only be one of each.

The road of reasons started as a sidewalk,

a place to pass while crossing the street.

I was positive I’d patched every crack and gap,

Never thinking about preparing for a sinkhole.

The first time I woke up with my boyfriend in bed

I laid under an invisible blanket of fear,

trapped underneath for no one to hear.

As I looked to the locked brown door across the room

The ground holding me dipped,

I missed a spot - the road had split.

Searching for safety in the words of a friend

Hoping she’d have a life jacket to lend

As I told her the tale she smiled sadly and said,

“Have you considered the chance that you might not like men?”

Yes? No. No, I couldn’t.

After staring at the ruined road I found myself asking a friend

A question I begged myself to not understand,

“How did you know you were a lesbian?”

When the road split

I realized I never truly loved a man.

“No Words”

While I say I don’t have the words, stumbling over best guesses, there isn’t a word that fits her and what she does to me. I feel – Empty? Missing a piece I didn’t know I had. Fulfilled? Sounds like a checkbox complete. Satisfied? Doesn’t begin to touch her. Happy? As if happiness can be contained into the one word.

When she smiles and her whole demeanour changes – something I’ve learned is unintentionally intimate and tender – I feel alive.

My face jumps to a smile, sparkling from the spotlight she’s given me.

While I am lost trying to find the right word, I pull us into moments.

Replaying a montage while music plays over us.

Pulling her into me while we dance in a quiet end of a big bookstore. Not caring who sees us laughing and taking the wrong steps.

Holding hands as she sits as my passenger. Singing at the top of our lungs to every song that comes on, not trying to perfect the tune or get every word right.

Feeling proud while as my grandfather tells her that she’s part of the family.

Laughing and whispering as we attempt to stay quiet in my parent’s house… because at three o’clock in the morning we are passionately talking about our novels’ plot holes.

The almost perfect night I told her “I love you,” that first time. The sky in brilliant gay colours at the end of the dock on the lake, swatting mayflies from swarming us.

Kissing her fiercely between movies at the drive-in in the front seat of the pickup truck. Listening to classic rock only to be interrupted by the flash of headlights and pulling apart to laugh.

Climbing into the blanket fort she made me for my birthday. She sang me “Happy Birthday” in her room and blew out a candle on a cake pop.

Making pancakes for dinner instead of going out drinking. The weather is miserable so we stay in to watch movies.

Convincing her mom to keep the Christmas tree up one more day so we could open presents together for our first big holiday. Listening to her sing as we took all the ornaments off right after.

There are times I know I could never explain how I completely feel, even with the right words.

The feeling of looking into her eyes after whispering those three words, that I fall even harder for her. It felt like a lie I had been keeping from her – not telling her how much I love her – was finally spoken and I felt free. She makes me know deep down that I don’t have to doubt myself anymore. I no longer have to question that I’m queer woman.

Snapshots

A dinner with my dad, filled with unrelenting love and acceptance.

A conversation with a dear friend, met with gentle gratitude and kindness.

A drive with my mum, telling me I was worth waiting for. 

A dance in my dorm, when I found out what love is.

A moment by myself, getting rid of letters meant for a husband.

A reunion that broke the distance, leaving me feeling whole once more.

It Is Worth It

There will come a day

when you look over

to the passenger seat

where your heart

will be looking

back at you.

Domestic Sweetness

One laundry basket

mismatched socks in the drawer

Borrowed sweaters

combine two closets

Sheets changed

three extra pillows to cover.

Two toothbrushes,

sit in a cup by the sink.