LGBTQ+ Poem: just in case she said yes, by Ellie Simon

I carry nine paper flags
labeled below
scrap paper, dry markers
and a dead hope.
Close I hold the fear they bring.
I cradle it.
I know where to place it
out of sight
so far I barely remember
its necessity. The anonymity
bites me in the ass.

She never knows what she finds
and brings to me like a little girl
with a bouquet of weeds,
of poison ivy.
She cries out
when I smack it from her hands,
skin going red and puffy,
eyes filling.

She doesn’t quite get yet
that some things are not meant for her hands,
that the pretty leaves
are hidden messages, propaganda,
meant to protect but turned sour.

I cleave to my colors –
why can’t she touch, hold, have?
Why am I ever the one to remind her she’s allergic?
Why can’t she just twirl
in her gauzy pink dress
and leave me in jeans,
cuffed at the ankle?

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest