Parents can’t always see the signs

When I was five

I liked my hair long and dresses and pink

That didn’t make me immune

To how beautiful I thought

The little dark-haired girl

At that awful church daycare was

Parents can’t always see the signs

When I was eleven

I had a crush on a boy in my class

That didn’t mean

My face didn’t get Hot

When a rumor went around

That a girl in th fifth grade

Was bisexual

I felt lucky I wasn’t the one they were isolating

Parents can’t always see the signs

Just because I cried over a boy this past summer

Doesn’t mean I haven’t cried over girls

It doesn’t mean I don’t cry

Three or four times a week

Because it’s clear

I’ll never be able to come out to you

Just because you can’t see the signs

Doesn’t mean they aren’t there

They might just be hidden

Somewhere in a closet