Milk, please.

“If a bullet should enter my brain, let it open every closet door.” –Harvey Milk

I love a woman who loves women
and she loves me.
And, Harvey, we love you.

You changed me, Harvey.
When that bullet grazed your hand,
it splintered my closet door.
As a death notice lodged in your brain,
my door flung open wide and I blinked into the sun
Of the vast
unrelenting
unforgiving
unloving
world.
And I smiled.

Harvey, I am so sorry about Jack,
but he wasn’t your fault.
And Scotty always loved you.
Can you love a woman
who loves women?
I hope so.
I will always love you
for what you did, what you lost,
how you made them all believe.

How you made me believe
that I’m not a disease.
I’m a woman
who loves women,

And I am beautiful.

What the hell is genderqueer?

My friends joke about this picture and say, "Look, it's Cori and her twin brother." They're kind of right. I won't bore you with the confusing details of my childhood, but I feel I must say that I have always felt pressured to act as either a boy or a girl, and I have never fully been either. Yes, my birth certificate says that I am a girl. Yes, I was raised as a girl. Yes, I consider myself a lesbian for lack of a better word. But, recently, I have decided to become a person without gender. How is this done? I suppose we'll find out together. The term I have heard for my decision is "genderqueer." What a wonderful way to start a stereotype! My friends, though many are homosexual, mostly think that this is a very strange decision. I do not. Growing up, I never did the things girls did. I have always been more of a tomboy. However, though trying in vain to force myself into both male and female gender roles, I never felt like I was a boy either. So what am I? Maybe I'll be a person.