Never Less Than

Why am I seen as less than you,

just because I curl up with a woman at night?

Together we dream of a place

where we aren’t judged for holding hands.

Are we not in 2024?

Sometimes I forget what day it is,

but now I don’t even know what year we’re really in.

Everyday humanity regress another decade,

flinging us back into a closeted past

of unfulfilled expectation and heartbroken reality.

You ask me why I won’t shake hands

with those who oppress me

but would you ask a mouse why they don’t nest with a snake?

Why must I sculpt myself into who they want

when they’ve shoved themselves in tiny boxes they refuse to peer outside of?

Love is too complex to paint in only one perspective,

and no art museum can hold the depths of my passion.