i wanted to be one of the boys

 

when i was 17

 

and so they would test me

and ask me

if i was a tits man

or an ass man

 

never mind the fact

that i was not a man at all

 

my response did not matter much

as long as it was one of the two

 

thus began the gentle mockery

of all things feminine

while they waited for me to engage too

 

as if

degrading my sex

would deepen the bond between us

 

you’re not really gay

one said one day

and, in a moment of defiance

where there had previously only been agreements

of nods, and yeahs, and fuck yeahs,

 

i said no

 

you cannot bend my queerness

to your will

for it will not break

 

you cannot shape it with your hands

because you cannot touch it

 

you cannot hunt it down

because it is not prey

 

my queerness was here long before you were here

and it will be here long after you are gone

 

it is a fire inside me

burning

 

 

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the strength of my own sexuality

frightens me

 

i become certain

that i’m addicted to porn

or sex

 

and then i wonder

after weighing up the evidence

 

if i was lied to

 

despite being undermined

trampled on

talked over

 

my sexuality rises

like steam

 

the heat of it

burns me

 

but it’s so malleable

and i can do so much with it