Like a solider without bone. Nothing to break, nothing to take. What is he fighting for? Could it be as simple as a chance to feel something more someday. A chance to fill his hollow muscle that has been torn oh so many times before. To have something to break and to steal something not given to you. What is he fighting for? Then to simply live long enough to understand why he fought in the first place. To mend with the sense of the question, of why it’s asked all around him but not to him. Flesh peeled off his skin like a sick glued on bandage that was there for ten years, like the sting and stench of an earlobe being sliced off after the piercing needle. Feeling the loneliness, abandonment, disgusting facial feature frowning, and non-existent forgiveness among the innocent, intoxicated, idolized all natural uncontrollable emotion called, love. What is he fighting for? Equality, identity, balance… or in our political standpoint a little thing called Civil Rights. What he is fighting for is a section of this, Gay Rights. Yelling out NO! NO you can’t have your loved one wed by marriage! NO you can’t call your “partner” your husband! NO we can’t stand the sight of true love between two of the same so you can be alone and not trusted! What he is fighting for is simply beautiful, pure and peaceful. What consequence could there possibly be for wanting to take care of somebody else for the rest of your life? Huh? For wishing the people around you, neighbors and family members, wanted you to find happiness after all those years of being tormented in silence and wait? Consequence… NO will be the broken soul tripping and tumbling down the eighteen hundred and forty five staircases to hell, because NO is only preventing a priest to allow two already mended souls to be allowed forgiveness and a life filled with acceptance without worry.
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