Girls and Drugs

By the time I was 11 I knew I wasn’t the same as every other girl who likes boys because I like girls too

I grew up knowing there was never really any room for me

They never asked me who I had a crush on because they were afraid of the name that would leave my mouth

Instead they decided the only way to deal with me was to call me dyke, gay, boy, whatever they could fit their mouth around to teach me to be ashamed of my desires while they flaunted theirs

They taught me I was not the same but something of a monster, something of a second or third class person – I was always on a lower level than them

Suppressing my love meant turning to anything to keep the pain away

I knew I loved her but I couldn’t kiss her because I was told that wasn’t allowed

I spent so many years pining after her wishing I could have

So many years I spent not knowing the difference between wanting to be a girl or wanting to sleep with her

Many days I am still afraid to linger too long with my eyes on a woman for there is a certain violence I do not wish to know anymore

8 years later I still dare not speak about it even after spending years washing this disease out of my skin and being assured this is ok – that it’s not a disease but a superpower

I am still able to talk about my drug use more freely than the fact that I want to kiss girls and I am also a girl

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