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Metaphors and Similes Wont Save Them
I'm so tired of writing poems about the queer struggle
Tired of comparing girls with dark eyes to holy oil
Because they say what we do is a sin
But when i close my eyes i swear my heart pounds with our fear
And in everything i write you can hear the echo of their cries
My siblings are being killed
And their murderer can plead gay or trans panic in 49 states
My siblings are being killed and people hold protests at their funerals
My siblings will have to forever have the wrong names on their tombstones
My siblings are having violence commited on them everyday
My siblings are homeless youth
Kicked out by their parents and labelled runaways
Can't you spare a nickel, everyone knows those gay guys can't live with without their hair products
My siblings are feeling their cheeks burn with shame for who they are
And all i can do is write these poems
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