She speaks

Queer

I'm enthralled by a kaleidoscope wings gently fluttering, few are gracefully resting on a flower's perch. A pleasing sight for me since the day I decided to embody what my heart set on to, truthfully a peaceful moment.

I remembered, not too long ago, hapless enough I was unable to free my sealed soul from a death-dealing nightmares each night. Held captive by stereotyped beliefs; disquieting utterance coming from a serpent's lips feigning to be a saint in front of churches and crowds. Each time I try to visualize myself in the fields of dandelions, with butterflies to run after to or perhaps another man's fingers to intertwine with mine; together gratifying the world for finally not cursing us who was once named to be an outlandish, my pent up madness and fear of the old society's disparity of love standpoints refrain me to come out of the shell; out of the closet.

However, that was way back when I haven't yet seen the power that resides of being a queer. Like a queen bee ruling a whole colony, I alone rule my entirety. I decide for myself to what is shameful and undeserving of love; my identity is never made for such words.