All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Love will always be Love
Love is Love
And I will scream that until all my breath gives out
Until my voice is all gone
And right now I still have my voice
So when I hear those slurs carried
from the bathrooms
through the halls and
into the loudest place at Hall;
I’ll scream:
Love is Love
And I’m not sorry about that
I’m sorry you grew up like that
I’m sorry you believe that
I’m sorry you think like that
The slurs you bark to classmates are arrows,
and you don’t see that the target you’re hitting is me
It hurts
I step back a little
Then I jump forward
“That’s not cool”
Now you’re the one not sorry
I leave up the stairs and there
those arrows are again
Hitting me in the back as I try to get to class
But I’ll just keep screaming Love is Love
Until all my breath gives out
Until my voice is all gone
And right now I still have my voice
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
I'm a junior in highschool and am a lesbian with a girlfriend. I am the leader of my school's G.S.A. (Gender-Sexuality Alliance). I wrote this poem on Valentine's day. i went to school late that day because I was scared. I had recieved the night before a message on social media from someone I was unfamiliar with, saying how I should mind my own business. This erson was recalling how on Febuary 13th I was walking by agroup of people and they said the f slur and I turned and asked them to not say it and that it is inappropriate to say. I walked away up the stairs and heard the slur being repeated again, I should have expected that. I wrote this poem the day after, still feeling scared,hurt, angry, and frustrated.