asexual
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Otherness
It's something I feel often.
people talk at great lengths, with
such passion of things I do not
understand.
They speak of romance and attraction
like the world will end without it.
My dear's a deer
what a novel idear
having a deer not a dear
makes me a bit queer
but
what's really quite queer
Hi, I'm Sunshine.
I'm a perfectly normal person.
I love helping people,
I raise rabbits,
and I enjoy watching the Arizona Cardinals on Sundays with my dad.
I'm a perfectly normal person.
Mom,
Why is my sexuality wrong?
Mom,
Why don't I want to mate?
Mom,
Am I a failure?
Mom,
Why do I have to try it to know I don't want it?
Mom,
What's wrong with me?
Mom,
We sat togetherfingers intertwinedlegs swinging overthe ledge,the edge of abyss(of bliss?)no space between
What’s in an attraction?
Sure the structure of your face
Can be aesthetically pleasing
But that doesn’t make me want to fuck you
Asexual is not a lie
We don’t want attention
No one simply needs a good fuck
We are people too
According to biology sex is a necessity
We disagree
Sex is a pleasure
But not for me
Where are you?
I have heard about you and I have seen you in stories but I don't know you
As if you were avoiding me like a disease
Someone that you can not grace their presence with
You lead others towards me
I am trapped in the closet,
Such a scary place,
With monsters around me,
About to bite my face.
I hold on for dear life,
Day after day,
Waiting, just waiting,
Will I fade away?
When we broke up you said
it's 'cause you never showed me love
But you never said what kind of love you were looking for
We were best friends for three whole years
Through the laughter and the tears
Being Demisexual is wanting a relationship but not knowing how to date
Being ace/aro is wanting to experience love but not knowing how
Who am I now,
Who was I then.
I was as quiet as a cats 'meow',
But now I just use my pen.
I know more about me,
I think you do too.
When I write I can see
Truly you are untrue
I wanted to cry, I couldn’t breathe
Through my gritted teeth I seethed
What was mine, wasn’t mine
Nothing was fine
Nothing was fine
Breasts? Hips? Soft pink lips?
Lipstick stained coffee sips?
In this heart I have seen
no man.
I have met
no woman.
There has been
no one.
For that
I am grateful,
if not
made less human
therefore.
I am not a freak
Just because I am different
From what you expected
Just because I don’t fit
Your pre-determined stereotypes
When I was 8 I wore dresses to school
I wasa bullied and teased for looking nice
For wearing dresses and pink and being girly
When I was 13 I stopped wearing dresses
I cut my hair to my chin and I didn't wear pink
I am confused
Make no mistakes
I am not sure where I'm going in life
And I am no sure how I'm getting there
At this moment
I am not
A girl or boy
Gay or straight
I do not know who I am
The closet was deep, but not wide.
There was a box,
It was full, and so was I.
I couldn't stay,
I had to come out,
It was just too hard to hold in.
There's a sickness in society
It's called sexuality
Where everyone wants to reach out and touch
And choose what they want
Who they want
What label they want
And with every touch it seems to spead
Please don't touch me
For I'm afraid
Of all the things you'll somehow see
And the fact that I'll be made
The truth is simple
And it goes as thus
There is no kind touch that may lull
occasionally
you meet a person or
people who
strike your heart
like a hammer to a bell.
it hurts when they
don't return the feeling.
they become the reason
for the cracks
I am more than this confusion
That seems to settle on me
Caused by trying to find my place
Inthis ever misunderstood community
you preach and preach
trying to end this hate
Tears flee from my
I gave up forever ago
eyes, and paint the door before me
like bricks.
Red brown red brown red brown
forever.
Except it’s always been infinity.
"Anormal", "Wrong", "Needs To Be Fixed", "Queer!"
That's but a small bit of the everyday soundtack that I hear.
"No, I don't want a Kiss.", "I'm not broken.", "Please don't touch me there!"
"What's a squish?"
people ask.
I do not
answer for
I cannot
express the
fear, tremors,
sickness, and
joy I feel
when I see
those whom I
can deny
no info.
Since crawling out of my closetBuilt out of confusion and pubertyI realize that there was more than a doorThere was also a hole.
Fuck yes,
I'm ace.
I'm ace as hell.
People might say I'm broken
or maybe confused
or that I just haven't met the right person.
Well, they're wrong.
My sex drive is 0.
"A"
does not stand
for "ally"
it is us
overlooked
and denied
we are not broken
we are complete
we do not need
your precious ritual
"A"
I am not invisible.
I am not inhuman.
I am not nonexistant, or abnormal, or damaged, or broken,
or whatever you might want to call me.
Because I,
I am a human being,
I can't get my words out because the constrictor in my throat is begging my silence to keep it company. Because they're bigger than me and their burns sting like the cigarettes they want me to be
So I stay silent
i feel like an alien sometimesout of this worldbecause i'm not always surethat i like the idea of
It must be so nice
To know exactly who you are
To be able to explain
I'm gay, I'm straight, I'm bisexual
Easier to explain who I am to my mother,
Who understands her gay son but not indifferent daughter
The professor’s prominent position
allows for him to prescribe definition
To teach with traitorous teeth
Troubled students beginning to teethe
Alphabets for acronyms sitting atop an acropolis
I'm not lying.
(Well, I'm lying by omission)
You don't define a triangle by saying it doesn't have four sides.
Why should I be defined by a lack?
(Asexual)
(Aromantic)
