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Literature Text
I started to live the day you hit me.
The day you taught me bruises heal
Without your kisses to make it better.
I started to grow the day you left me
The day you taught me I could deal
With life after your goodbye letter.
I don't need you.
And I remember
The day you cut off my balls
And told me I was too gay to have a family plan.
The day you called me a sissy
And liberated me from the need to 'be a man',
Threw me in the gutter, the day my life began.
And I don't need you
Maybe I've always been stronger alone
Or maybe through your abuse I have grown
Into something more than black and blue
There are rainbows on my skin,
Where your fists could not break in
Where your hate could not break through
I will never hit your back
My hands were made to give,
For all the wisdom that you lack,
I hope one day you'll start to live
And I'll be there to forgive you.
The day you taught me bruises heal
Without your kisses to make it better.
I started to grow the day you left me
The day you taught me I could deal
With life after your goodbye letter.
I don't need you.
And I remember
The day you cut off my balls
And told me I was too gay to have a family plan.
The day you called me a sissy
And liberated me from the need to 'be a man',
Threw me in the gutter, the day my life began.
And I don't need you
Maybe I've always been stronger alone
Or maybe through your abuse I have grown
Into something more than black and blue
There are rainbows on my skin,
Where your fists could not break in
Where your hate could not break through
I will never hit your back
My hands were made to give,
For all the wisdom that you lack,
I hope one day you'll start to live
And I'll be there to forgive you.
Don't worry, my dear friends, I am not being bullied.
I wrote this is response to a challenge to write about homophobic bullying, something I've luckily never been a victim of myself.
I wrote this is response to a challenge to write about homophobic bullying, something I've luckily never been a victim of myself.
© 2010 - 2025 eowyntje
Comments6
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holy mackeral i dont know wat else to say my son is gay and he grew up with an abusive father now hes way cool and isnt tryin to be not himself the anger i feel just telling this is messed up but i stuck up for him and that anger was turned on me the things your writing mean somethin and it reached me here in volcano hawaii wat a feat of courage keep this up