A Little More Freedom
This is all real. And happened today. Please tell me what you think...I'm super critical of my own writing. Thanks! :)
Today is Independance Day. It means we are free
But I don’t feel free.
Trapped by a truth to the external word that is only apparent when I actually pay attention.
I can only ignore stares for so long. They serve as reminders.
Reminders of who deserve to know but never will. Those who know and I haven’t told. Those who will love me no matter what until I tell them.
The south burns, bakes, boils and broils your skin. The stares serve as the glaze on top.
Out and proud they say. Out and proud and scared is more like it.
When you don’t feel comfortable going into a restaurant simply because of how you look, you are not free.
Stare at me more sir. I would love to be your meal time entertainment from across the aisle. Your son considers me an oddity. Do you not realize I am human too?
Tommy is a nice fellow. Large. Jolly. A beet red Arkansas Santa Claus in July. Who would have thought he would make the fore-boding pizza joint seem a shade brighter and a few notes happier.
Laughter among friends new and old rest my nerves. Thoughts of being a distraction fly away.
Long road home. Beautiful countryside and a rainbow. Pen in hand I write to you. You don’t know what I know.
Tired we attempt the myriad of streets and drunks in downtown only to give up and go home anyways.
A car in the ditch. Not ours.
Drinks and walking the dog later. Hello aunt I revere. Aunt I adore. The one I called mother when I was angry at my own when I was little. You are one of the ones the stares remind me of. One of the ones who knows. I know you know.
Look at this picture. Who is that you ask? That is someone I truly care about. And no she is not a boy. Have a goodnight. I love you too. Sign off.
What just happened?
The one I was most scared of said nothing. She still loves me. Relief. And a little more freedom..
Today is Independance Day. It means we are free
But I don’t feel free.
Trapped by a truth to the external word that is only apparent when I actually pay attention.
I can only ignore stares for so long. They serve as reminders.
Reminders of who deserve to know but never will. Those who know and I haven’t told. Those who will love me no matter what until I tell them.
The south burns, bakes, boils and broils your skin. The stares serve as the glaze on top.
Out and proud they say. Out and proud and scared is more like it.
When you don’t feel comfortable going into a restaurant simply because of how you look, you are not free.
Stare at me more sir. I would love to be your meal time entertainment from across the aisle. Your son considers me an oddity. Do you not realize I am human too?
Tommy is a nice fellow. Large. Jolly. A beet red Arkansas Santa Claus in July. Who would have thought he would make the fore-boding pizza joint seem a shade brighter and a few notes happier.
Laughter among friends new and old rest my nerves. Thoughts of being a distraction fly away.
Long road home. Beautiful countryside and a rainbow. Pen in hand I write to you. You don’t know what I know.
Tired we attempt the myriad of streets and drunks in downtown only to give up and go home anyways.
A car in the ditch. Not ours.
Drinks and walking the dog later. Hello aunt I revere. Aunt I adore. The one I called mother when I was angry at my own when I was little. You are one of the ones the stares remind me of. One of the ones who knows. I know you know.
Look at this picture. Who is that you ask? That is someone I truly care about. And no she is not a boy. Have a goodnight. I love you too. Sign off.
What just happened?
The one I was most scared of said nothing. She still loves me. Relief. And a little more freedom..