Why do you stare
Over here
At me?
Is there anything wrong
With my existence?
My differences?
Is it critical
To your life
That I must be
Catered precisely
To your needs
What is it of your concern
That needs to be watched
Carefully
From afar
With disgust
Every moment I intrude upon your holy
Presence?
I say,
Let go of that, my friend
Yes,
I am gay
I hail from a
Troubled background
And though my life is rich
I am penniless
The strong branches of my family
They carry sickness
Sickness I am likely to
Inherit
But with pride
My body was born
Attentive
Deficit
Hyperactive
Disordered
Though now
None of those things
They don’t matter anymore
And no, my friend
You won’t
‘Catch them’
You can touch me
Shake my hand
Offer a hug
Kiss my cheek
Be my friend
Without ‘catching’
My ‘ailments’
And why is it so desperate
Your need to condemn me
To ‘avoid’ me
To push me down
Into that abyss you never could have survived
Though I thrive in it
Where gravity is stronger
And rising up
Saps the strength
From you body
But perhaps
I am different from the few
That succumb to the call
Of drugs
Of pain-numbers
That end
In yet more pain
So really
Does it matter
Those things?
Do they shape me?
Or is it my character
That shapes me?
God
Is it even my shape
That shapes me?
No
Not at all
So I say, friend
Let go of those trivial things
Come beside me, I’ll tell you a tale
That you will scoff at
And say
“Possibly, that can’t be true,”
Because it will then be so far from the truth
That is my hope
I say, friend
Why does it matter
Who I appear to be?
The only items of consequence
That one can hold for themselves
Are the ones
That you cannot see
The ones that make me
Who I am
And I will not be judged
So if you wish to continue
Your ungodly practices
Leave this place
And let me have peace