STRAIGHT LINES I mistake my need for attention… for affection. My attachment my societal groupthink for love…and connection. The implanted idea that a man will make me… ME. I insist I am straight. I push… and I pull… and I finally let go and say… I think I might be… Bi? I sit down, and I cry. Deep down I know… that’s not the whole truth. So… I drink it. I smoke it. I snort it away. Cover it up. Cover me up. Line by line. Bottle by bottle. Until I feel nothing. Until I AM NOTHING. NUMB. I don’t want to feel… to be…ME anymore… Who am I? What am I? Why am I …here? WAKE UP. Sober up. I deserve… to be here. To be seen. To be heard. For my truth… to be known. Dump it all down the drain. One by one. Bottle by bottle. Bag by bag. Line by line. Strip it all away until it’s just…ME. ME. I’m not straight… or narrow… or anywhere in between. I am ME. I am free to be me. Unmasked. Unbottled. Unbroken. Unchained. Unshaken. Untamed. Unapologetically… GAY. — sageandrage