Fix your reaction time.
How quickly your hand
drops hers when their eyes
pin you down on the streets
Fix your hands.
Calloused from balling them up into fists
too many times
Please, stop doing this to yourself
you are too young to be fighting this war
Your hands aren’t meant to shut out
the world, you need to
open up your palms and accept
the way her fingers make you feel like
your hands are perfect for each other.
Hers, the melting butter, healing yours,
the burnt toast.
Feel the sensation on your fingertips
and pass on the love because even though they disagree,
Your heart is pure.
So lend them an open hand.
But when their words render you limbless you must
Fix that cowering body of yours
The one that says yes, I want to be wrapped around my girlfriend at night
and cut my nails short
and wear clothes that don’t broadcast my boobs
simply because I am comfortable, not because I’m queer.
Today your body is your home and your home
should not house lies.
Fix your home
Your mother’s reaction to the word gay.
So she stops seeing indefinite biblical verses
that imply your love is illegitimate and show her
your beating heart instead
the Picasso paintings of lipstick your sweetheart leaves on you
every morning because she would sacrifice the world
before saying you and your love
were anything but beautiful
Fix your father’s eyes because his glasses
don’t seem to do enough correcting.
Or maybe they do too much because nowadays,
all he can see are ways to correct
The disease that made his daughter
the subject of a million curious eyes.
Fix your attitude because
no one will fix it for you
you are not an anomaly,
the people you love are not hormonal impulses
With every silenced romance
love like yours have gone to the grave
but haven’t you had your pride buried
one too many times?
Fix your attitude
because no matter how hard you try
you'll never be able to hate yourself into
something you’ll finally love