Rainbow at Heart

The parade dies at midnight,

gone far too young.

the streets fall silent

and the streamers come down.

It is a callback to war-

a pilgrimage of broken souls

who saw it all coming;

It's the end of an era,

An empty field

with grass tinted red

and sprinkled with confetti.

Then there are the chameleons,

and we remember why lions

are the ones called a "Pride".

The ones that can't hide fight.

The ones that can't hide

celebrate with a shattering roar.

It is beyond the parade

that we remember all of us ,

our community-wide and ongoing struggles.

Today, we take a moment of silence for those

who are dragged back

into the black and white in chains

when the rainbows fade.

We remember the A's, B's, and P's.

We remember the erasure,

the struggle for belonging.

We remember the Two-Spirits.

“What? Two-Spirits? I’ve never heard of that!”

We remember the Two-Spirits.

We remember,

because the world does not.

Being out in the world beyond the parade

is dangerous, of course.

But there is a different danger in being the passing,

The forgotten,

The “safe”.

The danger of asking yourselves

“Would I rather it be obvious and people call me slurs,

or kill me in the streets,

or bask in my lonely safety net?”

Because it is exactly that.

Lonely.

Because you know who you are,

and you are proud,

but the world is a different story.

And you get used to it,

but then you remember the high.

The euphoria of the parade

where people understood you,

and you didn’t have to raise your shield

above your face and cower.

Nobody sees the rainbow,

Behind the black and white barrier.

We, the passing,

were the ones in the back of the parade.

We, the closeted,

were the ones making sure

we could even get to the parade,

sneaking through back-alleys filled with thorns

for a chance at color.

Remember them,

and hold them in your pride.

Remember the rainbow at heart.