LGBTQ+ Poem: Disillusionment, by Kieran Jespers

Throughout my childhood,
I looked up to strong women,
hoping to be just like them.
I feel a sense of despair when I realize
that I will never fill that role.
All those years of wanting
people to stare in awe at “how
strong that young woman is”;
knowing now that I will never be that woman.

I am just another man.
Man.
One syllable that carries so much weight.
As if being a man makes me toxic.
Makes me angry.
Makes me passionless.
Makes me temperamental and heartless.

But when I lay in my bed at night,
hidden by the cover of darkness,
I think how I want more than anything to look like one.
To be tall and muscular.
To have a chiseled jaw dusted with
The beginnings of a beard.
To speak in a voice with a
Timbre I can recognize as my own.

And more than that,
I want people to look at me and see
the softness of my heart, and
kindness in my eyes, and
love pouring out of my skin when I bleed.

I will never be a strong woman,
but I will be a decent man.