A few stutters, he thinks, a few pauses, he blinks, the sweat left his forehead drenched,

The odour of fear, drifted ever so near, repulsed his mind with its revolting stench.

Waves of anxiety boosted by cans of anti depressants, crippled his soul with a million doubts,

Relentlessly haunted, by what exactly he wanted, taunted by questions and feverish bouts.


He replayed that day, when he thought it was okay to let out that one skeleton in his closet,

And one by one deserted by everyone, he went down the drain like water from a faucet.

His parents his only friends, who praise him to no end, for never ever giving in or breaking,

He tries to be gritty, yet wallows in self pity, no one understands what he’s been undertaking.


No one understands that with every step that he takes, everyone sees him in a different light,

No one cares that all he wants is to sleep, just once with his eyes closed throughout the night.

Tired of falling and all the name calling, of little kids telling him he’s a “man whore”

Of reading a new insult every single day, spray painted boldly across his locker door.


Incessantly pushed down to the floor, and told that is where ‘faggots’ like him deserved to be,

That the dusty end of leather shoes and a barrage of spitballs was all he was reserved to feel.

Of all the times he tried to get up, in a sea of homophobic kids who just wouldn’t lend a hand,

How could one soul with crushed knees and broken bones, suffer alone to take a stand?


Filled with regret that he ever decided to speak, he tries to convince himself it all makes sense,

Why being openly gay isn’t a sign of being weak, why happy and gay are used in the same sentence.

Of why he isn’t any different than most of us are, making decisions amid a sea of choices,

That he deserves to be a part of what we are, and not be swept aside by a tide of voices.


Until that day when the world gives him his place, he sits in a corner of his class by the day,

Constantly reminded by what exactly he’s binded, by the varying tones in which he’s called gay.

As the rest of his class started filtering in, he hears all the taunting and shouting start,

The tears and jeers were dampening his soul, once again tearing his insides apart.


About thedevastateddreamer

The world is on its knees. How far can you crawl? View all posts by thedevastateddreamer

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