I'm in an ongoing relationship with the daughter of two homophobic soldiers. My love has recently received her license which means she has in turn recently received the ability to sneak out to see me more often. Whenever we get in the car together she always turns to me and says "you should probably get in the backseat." This is because The production of my follicles is something that stands out and if noticed by anyone when I am in the passenger seat will lead to a riot within my lovers household. My Afro is a symbol for the homosexuality that is a constant plague on her mother's soul. My tall hair and baggy clothes represents all the evil in the world to her parents. So to the front seat I have not yet received clearance.
When in the backseat I have a lot of time to look in on myself and see what I can find. My thoughts usually wander to a beautiful quote I love or the  joke I heard about the two guys that walked into a bar. But it seems like when I'm in the backseat it puts a barricade in my mind. I think of the years to come in which I will always be forced to the back. I think of the times before I've already been discriminated against. I think of the battles I will have to fight just as Rosa Parks did. Unlike Miss. Parks though I will not only be fighting against the bigotry towards my race, there is  also my gender, my sexuality, my clothes, and the hair the resides just above my colored face. Of course there are plenty of people who are fighting out there. And Everyday they try to climb out of the backseat. And everyday they are forced to accept the defeat. The backseat is not a place where your mind can bloom the backseat is a place that causes even the happiest of beings  to become doleful. It's like a purgatory for your soul that is no longer living but not Quite dead. It's like being accosted by Medusa in mid stride without being able to gather yourself before you are turned to stone. It's like trying to soar like Icarus only to know you'll end up drowning in a stream of your own tears.
Once the sun sets and the dark sky rolls in she'll often say to me that it's okay to sit in the front seat for now. My life is shrouded by darkness and oppression. I am only allowed to be myself when the dark sets in. The night time is when I can feel alive and not worry about a thing. It should be no surprise that I'm an insomniac with an addiction to beautiful words. I've thrown off my circadian rhythm because Why would I want to sleep when I've been forced into a grave during the entire day? It's currently 2:37 AM and my mind is moving full speed to finally bloom into the beautiful being I know I can be. But who can trust a flower that has bloomed in the dark?
I'm in a constant fight to move forward in life and I don't plan on giving up.
I've  cut my hair a little shorter and wear my clothes a tighter, all so that the front seat might be mine during the day. But for now I've accepted the mantra she speaks and I before she tells me I put myself in the backseat.