I thought I could trust you,
but now I'm not so sure I can.
I expected you to understand,
but you tried to change me.
"God loves you,
and He didn't mean for you
to be a lesbian,"
was what you said to me.
You treated me
as if I had an illness
that needed to be cured.
I'm not sick,
I'm just different.
There is no cure, anyway.
I thought you would understand.
But apparently, you don't.
This is sort of a sequel to my poem "Sweetness Has Just Become Bitter." I eventually told someone about the experience, thinking I could trust her, but instead she tried to change me.
No comments:
Post a Comment