Don’t let the song change. Keep it on repeat.
This music brings tears to my eyes, drills into my depression.
Makes it my life force. I am fueled by sadness.
Don’t stop this confession.
Be my priest, for five minutes, please, and just hear my unheard prayers.
I’m on the fringe of being normal, find me a cure.
Yes, I know it’s incurable. But please, just try. Be the first person to love
Me enough to try. Or the first person I trusted enough to know.
God, don’t tell me who to love. Please. I love you; can’t that be all that matters?
I didn’t sign up for this faith to be told I should burn because I’m only
Capable of loving everything I’m biologically, religiously, and logically not supposed to.
God, words fail me. The Book has failed to give me hope and guidance, and I lack the words to tell you how I feel.
God, don’t think of me as a different person. This has always been me. No matter how I try to hide it, no matter how many girls I date to try to fix myself, I will always be broken. Nothing gets better when the one emotion I want to feel is forbidden by your standard. A standard I cannot abide by.
God, I am gay. You’re the first I’ve told. And I know you’ve always known, and I blame you for cursing me. You’ve shackled me with my sexuality, and I will only know unrequited love. You made me love a Forrest Gump, like Frank Ocean, but you forbade me from loving him. God, I have to choose. Do I love you, do I follow you, do I worship you, or do I follow my heart, and love freely, with men. Master, I don’t want to be your slave. I want to love like any other man would, I want to feel the passion of a thousand Romeos. You have cursed me with this homosexuality, but no longer shall I give you the pleasure of watching me being tortured by the secrecy of my desires. You’re the first to know God, the first of many, maybe the first of thousands.
The world will know what you did to me.
What you took from me.
Normality.
You stole it.
You’ve kept it.
And I’ve dreamt it.