Not Your City

Day 24
Poem 24

No prompt for this one, just things I needed to say. About living in Washington, DC, and about a straight friend who keeps talking about going out to gay clubs.

Not Your City

This is not your city,
it is ours. Boys in red hats pass
and I wonder what they’d say
if I didn’t pass for something
I’m not, if they could see
inside me. They gawk
at a skyline they cursed
from hundreds of miles away.
They’ll curse again
when they get home as if
They’d never been.

This is not your nightclub,
it is ours. The streets outside
are safe for you, but I walk
rigid, wondering how long
I can keep up not being
a victim. You dance, wife
and husband, like you’ve done
so many times. You brag
when you get home like you
saw something exotic.
I hug walls and hope
no one sees.


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