Torn
Trigger Warning: This poem includes mentions of hate crimes, suicide, self-harm and mental illness.
How are you doing?
Fine.
How are you REALLY doing?
Well, not fine.
See,
My daughter came
Out to me as gay
And I love her
And I’m trying to remember
She said she was
Born this way,
But I fear
Others may not
See her
The way I see her
And will not love her
The way I love her.
I see the taunts
The stats
The attacks
The pain
These gay kids face
And I want
To protect her,
But how can I protect her,
When the closet holding her in
Was protecting her more
Than I ever could?
I see the
Suicide rates,
The cut-up wrists,
The depression
From lack
Of acceptance
And it’s unacceptable,
But who am I
To know how to stop this?
I don’t want her
To hide
And holding it all
Inside
Was only making her
Cry.
But the slurs
They sling around,
The stones they throw
To get her knocked down
I’ve heard those stories
And I don’t want her name
To be in the next one.
But she has no one.
But she has you.
Yeah,
I guess that’s true,
But what can I do?
Stand up for her.
Say her name
Be proud of your daughter.
Help her fight
For her rights.
I know this
World is TORN
In oh-so-many directions
But perhaps we can all agree
On one direction we must go.
Where?
Forwards.
Keep talking.
This debate will keep evolving
And people will keep asking.
Be there.
Be there how?
She’s only spoken to me now.
Be there
For the discussions
Like the one we are having.
Be there
To speak up
When she can’t.
Be there
As the ally
By her side.