What could I do?
What could I say?
How could I stop them?
Tell them we aren’t a threat to them?
We aren’t immoral demons from below?
Explain why they’re taught to hate us?
How could I tell them,
When they wouldn’t hear me?
How would I tell them,
When I couldn’t breathe?
How could I tell them when they openly mocked my people?
How could I tell them when they openly debated my rights?
How could I tell them when they openly beat him into submission?
Should I have screamed over their taunting?
Forced myself between them and the Faggot?
So the Dyke can be tortured as well?
What would that have done?
Both of us, suffering together?
Perhaps he would have realized he wasn’t alone.
Perhaps I would have realized it as well.
I remember your eyes,
As they surrounded you.
You didn’t refute vicious insults,
As they moved to attack you.
You never flinched,
As they hurt you.
I darted away from the scene,
Too terrified of being recognized.
As similar to you.
As the same as you.
I still remember the look in your eyes.
You weren’t afraid of them,
You never showed it.
You weren’t broken by them,
You never let them win.
Author’s Note: One of the biggest regrets in my life is when I watched repeated violent homophobic bullying in middle school and did nothing to stop it. If you’re reading this, somehow, I’m so sorry I didn’t have the strength to stop them. I’m sorry I didn’t at least tell you that you were braver than I ever was and that I knew exactly how you were feeling.
We went to different high schools and I lost track of you. Well, as I am meant to be completely honest on this blog, I think I wanted to “forget” you. You were too similar to me and your exact experience was something I was petrified of. It was rooted in traumas my brain built amnesia walls around. Your bravery made an impression on me, no matter if I tried to forget you. You’ve always been in my mind, just locked behind a wall.
I hope you never let them win.