blonde

Happy Thanksgiving! Photocreds: @wallflower-22

"Carousel By gingiebibi22 Bundled up for the January chill, her eyes reflect the luminescence from the carousel and bring a flush to my cheeks. Her fingers locked between mine, her laugh a carefree song. My seat tilts as I lean towards her while hers remains steady. My heart flutters and yearns for more and my hand grips tighter around hers. She pulls away happy, I let her go dissatisfied. Her eyes gaze back to the holiday lights, each individual bulb reflected on their glassy surface. My love for her is like a carousel; a never ending circle with no destination." Heteronormality sucks. Today in my creative writing class I was chosen by my group to recite the poem I had written for class today. Over the past week we have heard countless poems about "him" and "her" from the opposite gender, but my poem was the first and most likely the only poem about a girl talking about loving another girl, and looking into her beautiful eyes, and holding her soft hand. Out of 5 poems read, 2 talked about love. One was long and sweet and beautifully hetero. After the author showed the picture of her and her boyfriend that the poem was based off of the room was filled with "aww"s and" how cute"s. The other was mine. A story about a bisexual girl in love with a tease; a straight girl who loves to kiss everyone regardless of gender or sexuality, but only has feelings for men. As I went up to read my poem to the class my heart was pounding inside of my chest my hands were shaking and as I slid my poem under the projector my voice trembled as I started to read. After my poem the room was filled with snaps, but then I put up the picture. The room wasn't filled with "aww"s and "how cute"s. A pin could have dropped and caused an earthquake the room was so silent. Except for one girl who said that she thought the picture was adorable. Without her I would have had to go back to my seat in silence knowing that my coming out to my peers was not welcome. As a senior on high school I am confident in who I am, but that doesn't make this situation any less difficult. One day, I hope that a senior in high school will be able to confidently slide their poem underneath the projector light and tell her classmates about her and her girlfriend or how he can't get the guy because he isn't interested and the classmates will all applaud or snap and rally around both in support. Not silence.