Excusez Moi

I cannot breathe, I cannot breath

For I am choked by you,

Deep secret I have held

Nearly sixteen years, feeling abnormal,

Unable to be comfortable.

Secret, I must depart with you.

I had never any control over you---

Unnatural, sinful, a blemish in character,

Striking fear as though contagious

Wretched as the plague

But incurable in my immune system.

Society has told me how wrong you are,

All of your colorful ways are an infection,

Something to be ostracized and hated.

My parents

Tell me that acceptance is the truth.

‘We are all people, no matter what’

Is what I’ve chosen to believe

And that is why you cannot be a secret.

You should not be so grand,

Should not hold so much strength at all.

You are but a small facet of character

In fact you hold little significance other

Than to label us as humans even further.

My jaw is ungluing finally.

I find an opportunity, a time

To set you free, to free myself,

To inform my parents of what they

Have likely guessed long before today.

These are words that no one

Should be forced to hide with you in mind.

I have been planning on this grand

Reveal for some time now.

Theatrics are my specialty after all,

And what better place than France?

This plan is even more appropriate

Considering the calculation involved

Within my entire existence. Interrupted,

We arrive to the destination in mind

Much earlier than expected.

The boat we had taken was supposed

To only be touring Paris, not to bring

Us in front of the Tower.

It’s much too soon.

Of course, you are the only thing

I could possibly be thinking about.

It’s still too soon.

The family exits the boat, looking

Upon the spectacle created

By a Mr. Gustave Eiffel.

A line much too long presents itself,

But we wait, and I stare straight up.

Underneath such grandeur is mesmerizing,

Feeling so entirely helpless

I lose my breath.

The tickets are bought, we are waiting

Once more to mount an elevator

And be brought to the top.

‘Elevator to the top is Closed.’

A pang of anxiousness strikes again.

Will I have to feel this all over again?

No, we commence the climb anyway.

We wait on the second landing,

Hoping the conditions for the top

Will improve enough.

After not too long, the possibility presents

Itself to us, and we continue the trek upwards.

‘Excusez-moi, j’ai quelque chose a dire-’

I can’t bring myself to speak, and the opportunity

Is quickly running out.

Worry setting in, time is slipping away and

I can feel the chance leaving me.

Downwards we eventually go, and this is it.

I feel it deep inside,

The words begin to surface.

‘J’aime, j’aime, j’aime…”

‘What are you “j’aime”-ing’

‘Les hommes.’ ‘Quels hommes?’

“Tous les hommes.”

The words are out, and she understands.

At the landing, my mom brings me aside.

My family all near me, the truth is understood.

My sister: ‘Come here. I love you.’

I stand there, embraced, shaken to my core.

The weight is off my shoulders.

It took me much too long, but now,

Now I know. You are not vile;

Your importance is minimal;

You are but another label.

I am free of you, ‘secret.’