Closet musings (poetry)

I am an African, and gay as fuck

I’m a gay baby who wants to grow gay wings and fly

Instead I live in fear

And it paralyses me

It holds me down with a firm grip

And threatens to choke me

Sometimes I even dream about telling my ma

“Hey ma, I’m gay!” [insert awkwardness here]

But how do I tell a parent with whom I have never even honestly discussed sex?

 

Oh ma!

How did we get here?

 

I am an individual who has never done well with standing up on their own

I have always survived and gotten my nourishment from nods of approval

I search for them

I collect them

I put them in a little bag and hold them dear

They tell me I’m doing alright

Which is why this experience is more paralyzing

This thought that this thing my mom will not approve

That my mom, even though she may still love me

Will cast this part of me aside

That she will start praying for me more

And worry where she went wrong

 

Ma

The day that I tell you will come

It will be uncomfortable

For now, I will work on accepting myself

On accepting this person that I want to be

In case you don’t fully do that  when I tell you

In case you disapprove of me in ways that will hurt me beyond words.

 

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