Contest submission

I keep it from people, though I shouldn’t.

That boy asking me to the dance; even from him.

I am afraid to be pushed to the ground, my story written in words of fear.

But they are, aren’t they? It isn’t gay marriage, just marriage.

Stop, world, we are not the people you see, because in the eye of the storm, the world at that moment,

Nobody is safe.

Take me with you, storm, take me far away from dresses and dances and love.

I don’t know what any of them are anymore.

Whether it should be a gay dance, just because I am in the crowd.

Or whether that dress is gay just because I am the one wearing it.

Just like gay marriage, gay love.

Take me with you, sun, shining on sidewalks and streets, making the dust motes shine.

I don’t want to be here if I have to sit, waiting for something to happen.

Anything.