They love serving black and blue. I´m colorblind.
They wanted to go to church on Sundays to follow ¨The Lord¨ that no one ever saw. I wanted to play dolls in the attic with ¨The Goddess¨, my Barbie doll.
They forget everything I say. I remember everything they don´t say.
They want to be the first ones in line at a bargain sale at Wal-Mart. I wait in the car because no money equals no toy. (The car windows weren´t manual.)
They sometimes would wake up early to go have breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I would still be dreaming.
They knew I was gay. I thought I was human.
Their windows had locks. I asked countless times to put locks on my windows; however, I was raped by an intruder and my screams alerted them to run out the house; leaving me behind.
I´m allergic to pickles, cucumbers, and shell-fish. They server it every other day.
They literally hate me to my face at home, in public, at theme parks, and at flea markets. I love them behind their backs.
They introduce me as the lost one. I am the only one on the right path and in my right mind.
They´re always right. I´m left handed.
They once left me at a zoo by the lion´s den because ¨as a parent, one must teach independence.¨ I was later found at a stranger´s house.
They are alone, each one of them. I am surrounded by unconditional love and lots of colors.
They never hug me. They´re afraid of catching ¨the gay.¨ I hug their shadows. I´m afraid to catch ugliness.
They gave me the small room because according to them, ¨You´re not important enough to have a big room; you´re too sinful for a big room; and you´ll have a devil party.¨ I wanted the small room.
They will never remember me as a teacher, a loyal partner, a supporter, son, brother, or just plain me. In their eyes, I will always be the lost one.
Too bad for them. I found my way.