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You’ve murdered my memory (poem)


Sharon Christina Rørvik


“You got her beat in the cock sucking department”
drive by words
hidden in my ‘other box’
this is the price I pay
to play a human on your
television screen
Here’s another man
quoting scripture at me
before blocking me so’s
I can’t respond
repent, he says
No matter how many
things I do in life
no matter how many steps
i climb
I am reminded of my lowly
and unforgivable status
for being alive
It never stops hurting
death by ten thousand
small incisions made by strangers
i’ve been bled dry
inextricably fused
to my sex
I wish there were
a thousand other ways
to describe me
that have nothing to do
with how I love
“He’s funny, sweet”
Hell, I’d take
“An asshole”
if it meant I didn’t
have to be put at
the back of society’s line
sometimes having exceptions
made for me
cause you know – I ain’t like
those other gay men
“He’s a vet. Served during wartime”
will ‘faggot’ be on my tombstone?
a passage from Leviticus cut in granite
“Here lies a sodomite who had no culture,
no talent, no passion that can be mentioned”
even though I’ve done
and done
and done?
“He was a poet,”
He’s just an angry man, girl
so much rage
I just too tired to understand
what made him that way
but no, just no
don’t you know how much
that hurts me?
so many years
of this, so many years
I know a grief that can’t be named
“He liked music”
would have been nice
Ha- Ha Prolly, like, Britney. bitch
Guns and Roses are
for straight boys in gyms and middle aged
men with beer guts
I don’t want to live
on the corner
of hate and shame
but no matter which road
I walk down
I end up here
“You got her beat in the cocksucker department.”
Accomplished writer, poet,
vet, music lover, funny, sweet
an asshole sometimes
is what should be part of my obituary
the blood is almost gone
I don’t have any hate in me
I just want to cry
shame on you
i’ve been bled dry
you’ve tied me to a torture wheel
and i can’t get away
from my sex
you’ve murdered my memory