Problematic

I was reflecting on the podcast

And it’s many flaws, and I realized

A huge gap from where most of my

Motivation comes—

The multitude of problems

The queer community comes with

Not just societal, not just a reaction—

But ones that are becoming conflated with

All of what I’m dealing with.

The problem of being mad about it.

You can’t complain, if you chose it for yourself

And no matter how many plots they make

Queer-baited, most people still see queerness

As a personal choice, instead of a truth lived.

As if living god’s truth is somehow braver

Than accepting your own, at face value.

No matter who I am, no matter how far I go

From who I used to be, I am forever

The irrational one, the one that has the problem

I am problematic, inherently

As is the podcast, as is art, as is society.

I am made of problems

The same way you are, the same rate

At which you solve them, I am solving my own—

I find it scrupulous to insist I’m not where I should be—

When you’re not even halfway home!

I could be on the wrong path, I could have

Misunderstood everything up until this point

I could make a grave mistake I shouldn’t have

And I wouldn’t have the chance to say

Anything about it, because no matter what perspective

I am mad, deluded, angry and obtuse

Permanently scarred from years of abuse

If I say one word about anything I am

The problem. I need to rise above the scars

From yesterday and the ones I scheduled

I can’t say a word, other than

“I’m grateful”

And I’m mad about that, same way

I assume y’all are, same way

Anyone feels when the whole world is

This unstable.


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