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Gay suicideHis mom is going up to the podium to speak. Everyone is so quiet that all I could hear was the piano softly playing "Amazing Grace." I think about him…I still can't believe it. My best friend. Dead. Just yesterday, he told me he was gay.
I couldn't be gay, just like I couldn't have caused his death. When he told me, someone overheard and asked me how I could be his friend anymore and I just couldn't stand the embarrassment. So I said it. I said I couldn't be friends with a fag. I said that right to his face and I walked away.
He left early; someone said he wasn't feeling well. I never thought—he was always so happy, so kind to everyone. And look what happened. Kids took advantage of him and he couldn't handle it. Kids are cruel, my class is cruel…and he was, well, weak.
His mom is beginning to talk. "My son, Jaylen…he was always such a happy-go-lucky kid. He always found a way to make the worst things in the world disappear. He was always so nice to everyone. He stood up for his friend
Dear Anonymous (Coming Out)Dear Anonymous,
I AM BISEXUAL. And that is my problem. I don't know how to handle it. I get so nervous about it, I just repress it in the back of my mind. Forget it. I don't want people to get the wrong idea about me. But then again , what if I'm wrong? What if I say this is what I want and then I'm wrong? I couldn't even stand to know I broke someone's heart over my insecurity. My plague, if you will. I'm going a bit mad, just writing this letter to you. Bringing this problem front and center in the stage of my mind. I'm happy, letting someone in, but upset because has been so private for so long, I've grown to love the closet I left it in.
There is a yearning though. A yearning to explore, to see what it will be like. What it will be like to hold another girl like that. To hold her hand as we walk down the street, and kiss her cheek gently to say good night. What would it be like? I've only had the little experience I've had with guys, that was short lived. I had anxiety. I wasn't ha
My SecretI have friends whom I hold dear.
They comfort me and I comfort them.
It's a shame, however, how they don't know.
They have no idea who I really am.
That's all I can say.
I know you never wanted
For me to be this way.
I want to tell you.
I want you to really hear.
But it keeps me from talking.
It is your own fear.
I try to put myself in your shoes,
But, there is no rationality.
I know I must live with this.
It's my own heartbreaking reality.
I eat, I laugh, I play, I cry.
Sometimes, I wish I could be like you.
But, you will always keep a little distance,
Because I want to be me, too.
I'll tell you anything else.
Your judgement, your fear.
They are the cork on the bottle.
If I told you, would you still care?
I can't keep it in anymore.
Please, just let me say:
Would you still love me if I told you...
...I am gay?
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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