You came out to me last night,
And I saw your closet doors, your battle scars,
Fitted neatly with wings - not flying open with
A bang, or even a whimper, but with the slow
Whooshing of a thousand whispers of the people
Who came out before you, voices of
Solidarity that hadn't yet been given the
Strength to speak loudly enough
For you to hear their encouraging words.
I won't claim responsibility for
The strength it took you to unlock
The iron bars that surrounded
Your castle - after all, the moat
Was dry from lack of use and
Many others had already seen inside those
Gates long before you met me.
But from where we stand, you and I,
We know that coming out is a
Forever process, a perpetual becoming,
And the scars left on your wrists of throwing
wide those heavy doors often have
little time to heal from constant use.
I wish for you the strength to hear
The whispers of the wings that held
Your doors open while we spoke -
The wings that will, one day, with
The help of all the voices we can muster,
Carry those doors away from you,
From us all,
And let us finally meet the world's full embrace
Without our walls.
11/23 1:45 AM