The Strange

In honor of pride month, I vote we all release our oldest, most dramatic, incredibly homo poems that every gay person has written millions of because why not

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"The Strange"

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Reflection reflecting my sinful self,

I detest that which I dare not divulge.

My secrets secured on a sky-high shelf,

I itch to retrieve, refuse to indulge.

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I deem myself dramatic and deranged,

My world of privilege beginning to cave.

I can't go back, revelation unchanged,

So I swear to take my curse to my grave.

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But can I now truly respect myself,

When still I deject and neglect my truth?

Of course I reject this theory of self,

My course I elect say those beyond my youth.

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Would I choose a path where I lose so much?

Ask that to your elders who whine and belt

their scriptures, hate covered by state and such -

I don't choose Jokers, they're cards I was dealt.

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They say my love is abominable.

I know it's tough when you can't understand.

But though my love won't fit in your bubble,

you've no right to burn our cities to sand.

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Treat me as inhuman, I'll love you still.

Beat me 'till I'm broken, improve my shape.

I pity my wounder. Hate won't fulfill

the emptiness you fail to escape.

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I myself am proof that people can change,

So when hate fails, come be loved by the strange.

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About this piece:

Like many members of the queer community, I often feel at odds with myself. Many of us were taught from a very young age by our society, institutions, churches, and even loved ones that a non-heteronormative method of love is wrong, sinful, shameful, or disgusting. For a large portion of my life, I believed this to be true. The first half of this poem was written when I despised the part of myself which I wanted to drain from my blood and gauge out from under my skin all because our world fears what it cannot comprehend. Luckily for me, this self-hatred was largely a "phase" (ironic, I know) and I completed the poem during a much healthier era of my life. To me, this poem, while it is far from perfect, illustrates the development I have seen in myself throughout my journey learning to accept who I am and even to empathize with those who wish I were different, because we all fear what is "strange" to us. It captures the inner struggle many of us can relate to - the limbo state between hatred and acceptance. While I have grown exponentially, I will not igore my past - those first few stanzas of fear - the girl who was terrified of the unknown.

I am a firm believer that generations from now, queer individuals will not feel different or seperate for their love. But, there will always be those regarded as unacceptably different, for whatever reason that may be. My hope is that "the strange" will always show love to those who fear what they cannot understand, because only through love can we bring others from their stanzas of fear to finishing their poems with acceptance.

Oh, and happy pride month :)

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Just a loving reminder - If you relate to the first part of this poem and have not yet found yourself at the "acceptance" stage - please don't hesitate to reach out. Or, if you're struggling in life at all - even completely unrelated to this topic! I'd love to listen to and talk with anyone who needs a friend.

Love you,

Beck