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Literature Text
We are cardboard boxes
Pretty, even interesting
On the outside
We decorate ourselves
Seemingly eloquent
Smart, funny, open
The attributes we hope
Others will see
We are cardboard boxes
Dark and dirty
On the inside
Hiding things
Better left in the dark
We are cardboard boxes
Put a lock on the lid
Let no one see the
Guilt, regret, lies, scars
Stuff yourself full
Of meaningless shit
Until you lose sight
Of what you'd hidden
In the first place.
Pretty, even interesting
On the outside
We decorate ourselves
Seemingly eloquent
Smart, funny, open
The attributes we hope
Others will see
We are cardboard boxes
Dark and dirty
On the inside
Hiding things
Better left in the dark
We are cardboard boxes
Put a lock on the lid
Let no one see the
Guilt, regret, lies, scars
Stuff yourself full
Of meaningless shit
Until you lose sight
Of what you'd hidden
In the first place.
Literature
Lesbian
She treads carefully down the hall
Trying hard to ignore them all
Glares of hatred, harsh tongues full of words of disgust
Cutting people down in their world is a must
She doesn't interact, only races to her locker
Avoiding them who judge her for loving another
To them it's sick, disgusting, wrong
To her their love is like a song
Unending, beautiful, and necessary
Hoping one day they can marry
But she is still condemned for her love
Of a girl who is surely from Heaven above
You heard correctly friends, oh yes it is true
She loves a girl, with blonde hair and eyes so blue
The only thing that keeps her going each day
Is being ab
Literature
To all homophobes
As they talk, how they think,
they believe, what they say,
only an expression of their nothingness.
Nothingness which they think,
To judge us.
Nothingness which they mean,
To tell us what is right.
To direct as they want,
to what we are not.
Of their void thinking,
they are not self-aware.
Too deep it is in them,
the compulsion to turn
and want to break.
Danger, a foreign word,
they do not fear.
They are safe of being.
They are protected.
The supporters of them,
are blinded of the same thing,
such as those of nothingness.
Are driven by the idea,
To conserve the nothingness.
Yet they all are taken,
from the resentment they d
Literature
Coming Out
With promises to be good,
you prayed every day
and waited for the sign,
even when a songbird touched
down on the roofs of Kansas
and went hollow on your shoulder.
The shedding of teardrops,
the coming out of a heartland
from its religion.
Breathing the smoke of its ash,
and being washed clean of what
you thought you knew.
The locusts never come,
the harvest will yet fail,
but don't deny the butterfly
that carries you over pastures
of dairy cows too busy
to look up at you and judge.
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