I think I’m a lesbian that’s trapped in the body of a man.
And I know this sounds crazy, trust me it is.
its something that has bothered me ever since I was a kid.
Why I never really could understand what it meant for me to be a “man.”
Or to do the things that manly men might do.
When I was little my brothers would shoot cans in the backyard when it rained
I would sit Under and umbrella and try to explain
to the ants why I didn’t like to shoot things too.
It’s true that to this day I’m still a little confused
as to what kind of man I’m supposed to become.
And since the only thing I learned from my father was how to run
I’m tired of running on what seems an endless track.
With this identiy of masculinity on front of me
It never passed the baton back.
So I guess you can say this is a race that I’m losing.
And i’m just gonna rest here and sit with this confusion.
You see I’m a man who is in love with women who love women,
and not in the cliché guy kinda way.
No, I don’t enjoy watching women make out,
I’m much more interested in seeing them make up.
You see there is something emotionally sexy to me about two women
who find a way to mend a break up.
I’m attracted to women
who know what it means to be exactly what they are,
to find gentleness in honesty born from the pain and scars
that have been exposed lies of the rules they are forced to forsake.
I’m in love with women who love women
cause somehow when I am with them they make me feel safe.
And I guess it comes down to the fact that Im afraid to get hurt,
cause I’m still picking up the remnants of the last time I watched my heart break.
Mixed with scattered memories
of past lovers who said they loved me,
giving birth to these damned insecurities
When I couldn’t believe any of the words that they said
so instead I would push pause on my beating heart
and pretend to play dead with how I felt.
And I suppose this is the place where women who love women
have somehow found a way to make my heart melt,
Then freeze the pieces back into the shapes of the cards I’ve been dealt
so they can deal them right back to me and say
“go fish, I wish I held in my hands the cards that you need,
but we can still sit together and watch until both our hearts bleed
into the oceans and seas
until we find ourselves free to be who we were both meant to be.”
So Instead, we sit.
And we play cards.
Until the houses we’ve built comes apart.
But that’s ok,
cause the houses we’ve lived in we’re never meant to stay
and if these walls could speak they would have this to say:
I have found a place to heal along with these women,
I’ve learned how to be a man who feels from these women,
They reach me in places that the women I’ve loved in the past could never reach me.
Just by teaching me,
that I don’t know what kind of woman it will take to understand this bleeding heart,
But I know what kind of man I need to become once this bleeding decides to start,
On that day when I finally find what I’m looking for
together her and I will bleed into the oceans and seas
Until we learn to be who we were both meant to be and just start swimmin’
Because I’ve finally discovered what it means for me to be a man
by the lessons I’ve been taught from the women who love women.