Where the Celtic Sea kissed the golden sands,
My blood spilled over the descending sun.
In the dark I wept while he broke my heart –
No longer could the world see what he’d done.
I dared to say what was on my mind;
Caused her fragile little heart to race.
She said I was offensive—unkind.
Through thick leather flaps, I inched into an underworld;
Heavy beats, writhing bodies and walls smeared with sin.
The gatekeeper wrapped a numbered strap around my wrist;
In a drunken haze, lost souls tore away their skin.
Coming out of the closet.
Declaring to the world I’m a faggot.
When did we hear the same from a heterosexual?
Don’t be telling me it’s not essential.
Coming out, coming out, I’m coming out.
Just to help those who had a bit of doubt.
Seriously, must we still talk like this?
Does progress only apply to feminists?
You paint yourself as selfish and sometimes unkind,
but I use your selfless magic to unwind.
When the demons penetrate my tormented mind,
your warm words make the world feel tender and smooth.
When my brutal past haunts me, and fills me with fear,
your hugs protect me from those who were cruel.
But could you?
Could you truly love someone like me?
The sun cast shadows over my deep sighs
My spirit vibrated a shade of blue.
The moon contrasted your dark spicy eyes,
my mind filled with beautiful images of you.
Love’s intense fire burned within your deep eyes;
And your alluring gaze enslaved my heart.
Your warm, fragile tears revealed I am loved;
And love’s fiery blaze consumed my lost soul.
With you I have no cause to feel worried –
Pain of my history may be released.
With you I can be honest and naive –
Fear of abusive men is soon decreased.
Freedom to love is all I had desired –
Your captivating eyes released my chains.
I burned with white fires of passion for you
While lost deep within your enchanting smile.
Born into a world ruled by heteros;
With the right to murder those viewed perverse.
It’s fine to harm we who lay with the same
Because oppression is what we deserve.
Hounds of terror invaded filled with hate –
We natives were weak and keen to be smashed.
Images of pain made us take the bate –
Miles of wasteland that once housed life now trashed.