mmae_ee

Dear,

My heart

You have marks showing what I've done

You've seen things

No one wants to see

But you keep on beating

You're battered and bruised

You have scars

Caused by pain

By fear

Growing up when I was younger, I was raised in a very homophobic, transphobic family. I was taught that being anywhere on the LGBTQ spectrum was evil and would send you to hell.

Searing, frying, sautéing,
wiping sweat off my forehead,
crying because of onions
the things I do for a boy.
I hope he likes it.
The doorbell rings.
The door opens, he stands with a bouquet in his hands.

I saw a chicken crossing the street

And said to myself

“That’s rather neat!”

So I asked him, why are you crossing here?

And he glared at me with a stare so real

Then he answered me appearing quite cross.