She/Her

Prompt: Pride Month

She/her

They said, I fell for the wrong flesh,

And my innocent love was questioned by interrogative eyes.

In the field of thistle, I was called the improbable,

Where my soul vanishes

in the crowd of mere judgemental.

The air felt tight on my neck,

And I tried clearing the cobwebs of doubts,

To fall for a lad or lady,

Tell me, does love have gender or language to speak?

I saw my broken part in "her,"

So I painted my canvas with colors of her darkness.

She burnt in words,

While the coldness of my heart,

turned metaphors, incoherent.

In the bloody bed of quenching roses,

I chose to be the thorn,

harming those who would steal my blossom,

And tear my petals apart.

They kept on banging on my doors,

To chain my hands with fetters of immoral assumption,

But all I did was, closed my eyes,

And gilded my wings in free air.

Surfing over the wave of affection,

I lost my balance and fell in love.

The empty spaces of my heart,

called out for her poetry,

She whispered in my ears, 

quilting the voids of despair.

My skin was soft, but my soul was firm,

I wasn't a wallflower, but was considered a weed,

Yet, I know my world was different but not wrong,

I loved her, she love me, and our hearts burst with pride.

So I pray, I pray for you, and I,

This love may never die,

Until we both close our eyes.