It’s that confused look in your eyes
That gets me
When I say I don’t like girls; I like guys
And when you accept it, a few minutes late,
You ask
Have you dated?
And when I say no, I feel berated
It’s not like the love I want isn’t the same
But the love I want isn’t as plain
And while acceptance pours in for you like a river
I see headlines on the daily that make me shiver
Because your people are on the tabloids, the news, and on ads
Whereas the love I want is stereotyped or seen as a fad
You ask me why I’m so reluctant to put myself out
And it’s because every time I do I feel like I need to shout
It’s been the shedding of tears, the passing of years
And up until recently, I couldn’t fully accept being queer
It’s the way that the love I want is treated
And the fact that many could do with it being deleted
It’s the protests against it and the violence I can’t dismiss
It’s the mockery, the taunting, and taking the p*ss
It’s the fact that my sexuality
Is somehow the only reflection of my individuality
To those who just can’t look past
The phobias and ideas that contrast
It’s the stereotypes, the associations;
It’s the accusation of disease and the patronisation
It’s the lack of recognition;
It’s the fact that it’s seen as being deficient
And as far and as far as I try to stretch away,
I’m always within miles of that one person who tells me the love I want isn’t okay
It’s not as if I don’t want a relationship;
It’s something I yearn for
But the negativity, laid before my me,
Makes me want to stay put on the floor
Because having to explain myself, my reluctance, my identity
Is a massive chore
Sometimes there’s hope and you see a relationship, a movement that inspires
But as soon as you scroll to the comments section
Those feelings of positivity begin to transpire
To despair
To anguish
To feeling as if you have to gasp for air
And then you hate on the culture
The way being oppressed makes everyone obsessed
With colour
With weight
With image
With style
With judging everyone so harshly and making them feel vile
You see the problems inherent so blatantly within
And your patience begins to run thin
You begin to think that the phobia is justified
But deep down you realise that everyone’s simply terrified
They’re fully insecure with thoughts impure
Unable to let past fear mature
And you realise, slowly, that you are too –
That you’ve also criticised and judged others for what wasn’t really true
It’s a sticky situation, a Catch-22, and every paranoid thought that enters you brain
Is letting it stew
You’re letting the fear, the mindset win
You’re being tacked down with nothing but a simple, homophobic pin
I’ll find the love I want; I won’t give in