It hurts me so bad to know that my parents neglect me because of my sexuality.
I didn’t choose this life, but this homosexual lifestyle chose me.
Tag! I’m it!
All I ask of them is to be there by my side and support me,
but they hate me.
I want them to support me like an adhesive that supports a house.
Yet, they neglect me.
Because of my sexuality they didn’t show to my awards ceremony.
They couldn’t even be proud of me.
You know how much that affected me?
It broke me.
I sometimes overhear my momma talking on the phone to her friend about how I disgust her, how she wish I wasn’t her child.
It breaks me.
It feels like I’ve been stabbed in my heart,
and you can hear the yuck “of a nasty after taste” in her voice.
She talks about how I’m going against God.
Which I’m not. I love the lord, and I still don’t see why me liking the same sex is so odd.
My dad thinks I’m the way I am because of “society,” “Instagram,” and other social networks.
He’s always saying “That dang on tv getting to you too much.” “You weren’t born this way.” “You are the devil’s child.”
It felt like I stubbed my toe on the edge of the bed.
That’s how bad his words hurt me.
Why me? Why is my heart attracted to the same sex?
Why do I have to go through what I’m going through?
Why can’t my parents love me
like they love my siblings, like they love their job, like they loved me before? It’s unfair and it sucks.
Why is this even so wrong? I’m still the same me,
and who I like does not define me.
It does hurt me.
Yet, I love me for me, and their opinions won’t change me.