Pride is a very weird concept to me –
I have always been vocal in my sexuality
but I would not say I have ever been proud.
So many people have told me that I am wrong,
I am sinful,
I am greedy
and repulsive
and disgusting.
My parents and classmates and religion and colleagues
believed me to be an abomination,
a crime against nature
because I hold in my heart
love and lust
for all people, regardless of gender.
I always hoped that as I grew older,
things would start to make sense;
I would get over the “curiosity”
and escape the “phase”
but with each passing year
my feelings just become further cemented
and I hate myself more and more.
I go to the parades,
I go to protests,
I try and help and protect my siblings.
I fundraise and donate
and do as much as I can
out of guilt
for being unable to accept who I am.

It is June,
and I see the rainbow branding
of signs and banners and posters
popping up across the towns and cities I visit
and I am ashamed to look at them
because I do not feel that they are for me.
I cringe
because I do not feel like
I will ever be
proud of myself.

– for those who are true to themselves