Published by Gabrielle Vergara
Date Published: December 22, 2022
Time Published: 10:05 AM
Category: Poetry
Theme: Sexual Bigotry
He must be crying really hard.
His downpour rains on my parade;
It cannot wash off the sins staining me.
He can never alter what he has already designed.
Whatever he sacrifices, it just goes to waste!
He offers me food to appease my hunger,
Yet I still crave for her soul to intertwine with mine.
He offers me water to satisfy my thirst,
Yet I'm still parched by her metaphors of affection.
He gives me clothes to cover my flaws,
But the naked truth that I romance her still peeps.
He gives me a home to rest my body,
But I prefer her arms to shelter me.
If I consecrate "her" figure as my saint,
I would be labeled as sinful.
But if I become submissive to a man's figure,
I would surely be seen as faithful.
And yet they advocate always being truthful!
His devotees condemn my desires;
Suppressing my "shameful" identity.
They are forcing me to be real,
While sledging me for worshipping her divinity!
How inauthentic is their definition of authenticity?
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