PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Words I laughed at coyly, but realized that it was true.

Me, spending my whole life fighting for everything from being an MK (missionary's kid) to being a soldier.



Knowing in my hometown I will always be considered Cigar’s daughter, and in my mother’s town, one of Mother Tardy’s daughters, the one who sings.



It’s not like you can stop being gay, my sister said.



I knew it growing up. You always commented on things most girls didn’t.

Most considered you a tomboy, even though when you got into girly things I knew you liked girls.



Sis, I don’t care who you’re fucking as long as they love you and treat you right.

You can’t change who you are. Your soul is old, yet cherished.



It’s not like you can stop being gay.



Passion is my source of life. Writing is my passion. Life is my work.

Life with love is wonderful. Life without it feels meaningless, with the exception of loving myself.



Yet there’s something to be said about seeing a your lover’s face light up when you walk into a room, and waking up next to them. Love is like fuel for my life.



It’s not like you can stop being gay.



Choices, decisions, opinions.

Friends telling me that in my position I can’t let people know.

It could ruin my career, just by going to places I go  to sing karaoke.



As one professional to another, watch yourself, most people wouldn’t know you were gay unless you told them.  You are just a beautiful woman to most people.



It’s not like you can stop being gay.



Powerless against the stereotypes, but longing to tell somebody, anybody.

Hey you, I’m gay, and yes I’m a PhD, and yes it’s okay, but life is not easy and this world is not always fair.



Yet I fight it deep inside my soul. I smile when my mother says you and her seem to be great friends.  I’m glad you have that friendship. I tell my mother that my “friend” loves me, and I love her.



It’s not like you can stop being gay.

There’s no switch in my mind, my heart, my soul, that can be turned on or off.  It’s just something that I am.  My personal opinion is that if God created different planets and civilizations, then he made people like me too. We’re just all made in his image.



I don’t understand why people tell me I’m so different.  Why can’t I be the educated black lesbian I am who served my country willingly and would do it again.  The beautiful woman who loves skirts, make up, and a woman.



It’s not like you can stop being gay.