Thoughts plague my broken mind,
having no sense or feel for time.
I lay awake and count the wishes
my thoughts seem to touch.
Another sleepless night
from another stupid fight.
Was it worth anything?
A wound in the midst of healing.
All I can do is cover my mouth
and hope my sobs don't come out as shouts.
By the time I finish my hair is wet
from the trail my tears have left.
I tremble and shake under the weight of the knowledge
that I haven't confronted the worse problem yet.
Will I be accepted
or just flat out rejected?
I can't help that the way I feel
isn't what they wanted to hear.
but don't I deserve a chance to be happy,
to be in love and romantically sappy?
Why, then, when you look at me,
do you only see my sexuality?