I Thought You Were American

I don't like the word l esbian

Even though I might be one

It's off putting and clumsy in my mouth

So I try to avoid it when possible 

I don't and won't use it 

to describe myself

Gay

Queer

Bisexual

Those words don't constrict my heart

Nearly as much as the word

Le sbian does

I know why

Or at least I think I do 

Internalized homophobia

Compulsory heterosexuality

All that jazz

That's what the text tells me

But knowing this

Doesn't change the fact that

Hearing the word les bian

Makes my stomach roll

And saying the word lesb ian

Feels like vomiting spikes

I tried for so long

To smooth out this crinkle

A shameful failure on my part

To show pride for the word that 

May fit my identity

Lesbi an

But I've found out

That it hurts and that I can't 

No matter how hard I try 

Or how many therapy sessions I attend 

I can't claim 

such a personally unsettling word

That's why I don't choose the label lesbia n

Even after spending so much time and money

Because the word to me is 

Scratchy like sandpaper

Painful like cuts

And bitter like pills

So please don't make me

Either through peer pressure

Or by threat of ostracization

Let me be gay queer bisexual whatever

Just not a

Lesbian