maybe they live in a bubble
a white evangelical boomer bubble
maybe to see that queer isn’t something to fear they just have to spend more time around people who don’t look like or think like them
maybe that’s the trick
maybe they’re just so white that a little extra seasoning seems to spicy after a lifetime of bland food
maybe if they took the time to table their discomfort, they’d see the thriving colorful community I’m a part of
maybe that’s enough to plant the seed
maybe they’ll water it and watch the muck of their self-righteous bigotry decay as the tree of life blooms a thousand colorful blossoms
but…
maybe they’re thinking the same thing
maybe they’re coming around hoping to plant their own seed rotting with dogma
maybe we’re having a standoff, both trying to share the good news
one the hook, line, and sinker to a life of shame and guilt
the other the knowledge that true freedom isn’t found in following historical fiction’s bullshit rules but in loving yourself and others as they are
maybe their old brains still have some elasticity
maybe one day they’ll look at me and say thank you
maybe I’ll keep trying
sending messages with tin cans and string
popping their bubble with my rainbow pin