I Pass

Do you think I look up to you 
 perched on your high horse saying it's my choice 
 to love more than one and that choice is wrong?
 Do you think it's okay to shout, "You're not gay! 
 Stop sinning, start winning my praise!" 
 as if your praise is what I spend my days longing for?
 You must be in a haze, dazed beyond comprehension 
 to think my love has anything to do with your attention.
 Let me set the record straight: I'm not.
 I'm a zig-zag line going down a zip line 
 racing towards a future where your lies have no ties to me, 
 where I am free to love truly, openly, without judgment 
 or hesitation because I know I live in a nation 
 that says all humans are created equal 
 and have a right to pursue happiness which for me is sappiness 
 as I hold my husbands heart in one hand and share mine in the other 
 with another, some person I've yet to meet who will smile at me 
 and force my fears to retreat because hate has been defeated 
 and I am seated in a throne of confidence, not hiding anymore.
 So, yeah, I'm Queer, and so is my future Queen who'll rule love 
 with me and my King and I will sing a song of victory you won't get to hear, 
 dance in a celebration you don't see. See, I am not hiding who I am, 
 but I'm not sharing with you because when you had the chance to know me 
 you blew it, you put me through it too many times for me to let your slut-shaming slide. 
 So you can bide your time in hopes that one day I'll arrive, 
 your prodigal daughter that you'd have willingly slaughtered 
 if your god had asked you to. Just like Abraham. 
 Wow. Some father. To make your child a martyr 
 for the shame you obviously harbor but are too stubborn to alter. 
 Shall I approach your altar? Are you on a throne of thrown away psalters? 
 Liturgy may be your liberty but you must know it'll never set me free.
 So stay up on your, what do you call that, White horse? 
 Seems to me more like a Jackass, but note:
 If you come to me saying, "I love you, but-" 
 save your breath. I pass.