Its our God given right to love.
To hold our lovers hand like a spider hugs its web through every gentle gust of wind.
Equal.
What we are said to be.
If this is what we now think equality is then we must all be blind to the smell of dead fish and how it smells so sweet.
I shouldn’t feel the intolerable burning of fire through my entire being in a room full of snow because I am “the only gay you can stand.”
Your words are served on a rusted, jagged edged platter.
Silver won’t do. Silver is equality.
Today I am scared to go into my favorite city and celebrate who I am because nearly 485 days ago you played a hunting game and 49 loving bodies were your targets.
Equality has no Pulse.
This city stuck to safety like Jolly Ranchers to fingers.
I've washed my hands.
Safety trickled down the drain like the tears I’ve shed over what you've done.
Being myself isn’t an okay thing to people.
Anger kills the things we love the most and rip safety from us leaving holes. My favorite pair of jeans.
But, this is equality.
Separate but equal.
We’ve heard it before, but it never really left.
This isn't equal.