The Ramblings of a Divided Mind

I'm reaching out.

Please reach back,

Grab my hand,

Tell me I'm not alone

In trying to build this.

I'm reaching out,

Painting rainbows

Trying to make it work.

Please offer your hand,

Your thoughts and ideas.

I want to connect.

Perhaps it is just a job,

Perhaps it doesn't matter,

But we used to put up flags,

Used to have our stands,

I'm asking for that again,

Asking to have connection again.

I'm reaching out.

Every path is different,

Every beginning of questioning,

And each answer found.

Fluids fill the space they're given,

So is that what identities become?

When we're given limited chances

Or reduced ways to be honest

We fit the space we're allowed to.

Then we open the doors,

Put boxes open on their sides,

And flow into everything, anything,

Move between labels easily,

Things aren't great,

Might be getting worse,

The looping curse

Of progress and pushback.

We hope compassion helps,

Hope it makes hard times easier

Brings people together

Flag flying in a clear sky,

Colours shining for miles,

The rainbow giving hope again

Through humanities refrain.

Flags shining side by side

There for all to see,

Saying we are not alone

And there's many ways to be.

Pinned to my collar,

Wrapped around my shoulders,

Even down to my laces,

The colours must shine through.

So rainbow flag shining anywhere

Be visible and be true,

Be the loud presence for us all

We're told we have a self,

Are a person, an individual,

And expected to know it.

We're told so many things

About having an identity

To see myself in stories;

Is a blanket being given

When I didn't know I was shivering.

Is tears in my eyes

As someone else calls "you too?"

Is finding buried treasure

After having lost the map.

Representation always matters,

Always reaches out vitally.

No matter how different

Or how short the reach

Representation is comfort

For anyone who hasn't seen it

Or struggles to find it.

Representation calls us forwards

And embraces us imperfectly.

What a wondrous treasure.

What a fearsome stature.

We abound with differences

With things we wouldn't notice

Until they're missing from the scene.

We abound with similarities

With ways to meet halfway

Until a step is tripped over.

We are a world of variety

Where I see it constantly

Yet fail to see when it vanishes.

The world is what it is

Different and similar and wild,

What a difficult place to live,

Safety or suppression?

The phrase is repeated,

Coming out, in the closet,

So much language built

Over an idea of a closet.

It gives space to think;

To learn in private

And explore our thoughts.

But it muffles everything,

Can choke the truth back.

Both positive and negative

The closet is still needed;