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Dear Straight People,

An Open Call To The Majority.

By Grateful MafianaPublished about a month ago 2 min read
Dear Straight People,
Photo by Adrian Dascal on Unsplash

Dear straight people, Who do you think you are?

Do you have to make it so obvious that I make you uncomfortable?

Why do I make you uncomfortable?

Do you know that makes me uncomfortable?

Now we're both uncomfortable.

Dear straight people, You're the reason we stay in the closet.

You're the reason we even have a closet.

I don't like closets, but you made the living room an unshared space

and now I'm feeling like a guest in my own house.

Dear straight people, Sexuality and gender?

Two different things combined in many different ways.

If you mismatch your socks, you understand.

Dear hip-hop, Why are you fascinated with discovering gay


Gay people rap. Just like gay people ride bikes and eat tofu.

Dear straight women, I mean, "straight women."

Leave me the fuck alone!

Dear straight men, If I'm flirting with you

it's because I think it's funny.

Just laugh.

Dear straight people, I'm tired of proving that my love is authentic,

so I'm calling for reparations on your ass.

When did you realize you were straight?

Who taught you?

Did it happen because your parents are divorced?

Did it happen because your parents are not divorced?

Did it happen because you sniffed too much glue in fifth grade?

Dear straight people, Why do I have to prove my love is authentic?

Why do I have to prove my love is authentic?

Why do I have to prove my love is authentic?

Why do you have to stare at me when I'm holding my girlfriend's hand like I'm about to rob


Dear straight people, You make me want to fuckin' rob you!

Dear straight allies, Thank you -- more please!

Dear straight bullies, You're right.

We don't have the same values.

You kill everything that's different.

I preserve it.

Tell me, what happened to Jorge Mercado?

Sakia Gunn?

Lawrence King?

What happened to the souls alienated in-between too many high school walls,

who planned the angles of their deaths in math class,

who imagined their funerals as ticker-tape parades,

who thought the afterlife was more like an afterparty?

Did you notice that hate is alive and well in too many lunch rooms,

taught in the silence of too many teachers, passed down like second-hand clothing

from too many parents?

Dear Queer Young Girl, I see you.

You don't want them to see you so you change the pronouns in your love poems

to "him" instead of "her."

I used to do that.

Dear straight people, You make young poets make bad edits.

Dear straight people, Kissing my girlfriend in public without looking

to see who's around is a luxury I do not fully have yet.

But tonight, I am drunk in my freedom, grab her hand on the busiest street corner

in Philadelphia, zip my fingers into hers and press our lips

firmly, until we melt their stares into a standing

ovation, imagine that we are in a sea of smiling faces,

even when we're not and when we're not,

we start shoveling, digging deep into each other's eyes, we say,

"Hey, Baby, can't nothing stop this tonight," because tonight, this world is broken

and we're the only thing that's going to keep it together.

sad poetryMental HealthFree Verse

About the Creator

Grateful Mafiana

Grateful is a captivating writer who enchants readers with her spellbinding tales, bits of advice and a lot more.My words weave a tapestry of emotions and leaves an indelible mark on the literary landscape. Prepare to be captivated.

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  • Belleabout a month ago

    Powerful last lines ❤️ beautiful

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