What If?

Every now and then I dip my toes in the poetry well. This was something I wrote tonight as a performance piece for the open mic slam I'm preparing for. I have written poetry for 25 years. As you might imagine, the tone and subject matter has changed a bit throughout this period. However, I tended to only write when I was angry, hurt, depressed, etc. Lately my life has been so wonderful that I haven't written a thing - a blessing, yes, but also tough for me as that's one of my biggest stress releases.

But it hit me all of a sudden this evening that I have the perfect thing to still be angry about, and it fits right in with all the other mediums in which I profess my opinions and support - I'm talking about the fight for LGBT equality, of course. If I can use this new medium as a way to reach others through social media, and especially if given the chance to perform one of my pieces to a public audience at a slam, maybe this will reach a whole different demographic than I'm used to.

So. I decided to go ahead and share what I just wrote with all of you, and get your input on it. Keep in mind, this was written specifically in a performance style, so it does lose something in just reading it. But I thought I'd share it anyway, and see what you all think.

Please leave a comment once you've read this over. (It will really help me out in the future.)

What If?

You look at me

Your eyes chewing on my details

As you prepare to spit out an undigested, undesired opinion

I can see you count them off…

‘1, 2, 3

Same as me’

Minivan

Extra curves

Kid hanging off each arm

Just another

Suburban mother

Nothing to look at

Nothing to bother

Yourself

With.

But…

What if you knew?

What if you could see down to my truth

My insides

My deepest, darkest depths

The things I have done

The bodies I have ravished

The hearts I have left panting

And writhing

In abject agony at my departure?

What if you could open my doors

Expose my skeletons

And come to know them by name?

Then you would see that I am nothing

Like I seem

I am not

Some straight man’s absolution

I am not

Some straight man’s whore

I am not

Some straight man’s plaything

Secret fling

Wedding ring

Because…

I am not

Straight.

See, where other women have

A ‘he’ in their lives

I, instead, have a ‘she’

A ‘she’ that is my love

A ‘she’ that is my life

My wife

My everything

So what if

You knew this truth?

Would I be worth the bother then?

Or would I simply BE a bother

A stark reminder

In your daily life of privilege?

Your rights trump my rights

Then

Your dreams are the only ones that count

Then

Your love is God-breathed and mine is a sin

Then

But wait…

Only moments ago I was part of your crowd

Another mother

Not something other

Now everything is changed

In your head

Yet I’m still a suburban mother

Still just a regular gal

Nothing is different about me

From then ‘til now

Except you

So what if

You made a change

What if

You decided my ‘she’

Instead of a ‘he’

Was irrelevant

To my ‘me’

What would change then

If?

© Jeni Cantrell 2013