When I was about fifteen, there was a girl who lived near us, my age, who knew she was gay. This was the seventies and her parents did not understand; the church the family attended did not understand. So, she ran away.
It was a minor scandal and the sympathy for the parents from most was acute, though some in her church said that it was the parent's fault the girl was gay. No one seemed to have any sympathy for the girl. What was wrong with her? What was is about her that would do this to her parents?
When I left home several years later, the parents still had not heard from her. I have no idea where she went. She was nice and deserved better. This poem is about what I hoped happened.
UPDATE: Since writing this, an old friend has told me that the girl was alright, though gave me no details. She never again saw her parents, however.
What was it
About the morning now?
Her hairbrush, cleaned
Thrown to the bottom of her bag
To fall on toothbrush
Underwear
Lipstick
Small change
What was it
That they said to her?
Your anger, always
Hurled into our faces
Tearing our lives apart
Needlessly
Endlessly
Sick
That is you
What was it
About the road outside?
So empty, this early
No one to judge her here
Questioning
Deliberating
Her sex
Disapproving
What was it
About the bus station?
The bench she sat on
Uncertain of herself
Crying
Dying
A little
Lonely now
What was it
About the love she needed?
The love her parents
So condemned her of
Gentle
Undemanding
Mutual
Sexy
What was it
About the cold ocean here?
A simple choice of
Living or dying
An end
Finished
No more
Accusations
What was it
About the girl who sat with her?
Held her hand caringly
For just a little while
Knowing her
Loving her
Sick
That is not her
What was it
About being lost with another?
Sharing feelings her
Parents said were evil
But felt
Right
Complete
Safe now
What was it
About sitting in the church?
Others judging us as if
Her sins were our fault
She's lost
Gone
Can't forgive
Ourselves now
