THE SIGNIFICANCE OF A RAINBOW
I never knew the significance
of a rainbow.
Until 15,
bright-eyed with a heart
full of possibilities.
On the porch swing of a table,
I asked my friend out
& he said no I’m gay
you’re the lone wolf I have told.
I sobbed for myself, and him.
A throb of hormones,
I threw myself on to
my best friend’s floor that night,
11 years passed like pages
of my favorite book,
not once did my mind
question why
I threw myself
into the ocean at girls,
a desperate need
to be their best friend.
I chopped it up to their fashion
style & kept my book close.
I never called myself anyone’s
babydoll.
No one wanted me & who was I
anyways?
But I saw them, &
the back of my throat clenched
while they read slam poetry
at my practicum.
My hormones danced in unison,
& I picked them up off the floor
like pieces of popcorn.
Why was I embarrassed
by this?
Maybe it was a message
I hit the ignore button on.
I learned about the pronoun ‘they’
& used it diligently
just the way I always arrived ten minutes
early to class.
Always.
They texted me from a poetry slam event,
I wish I was with you instead.
A confetti gun went off
in my apartment,
Colorful,
Messy.
But worth it.
