Current location:	Bedroom w/ Neeners
Current mood:	accomplished
Current music:	Something technoey in Neen's headphones

My Root
My root...
Is PVC and a whip
And a shock of blonde hair
Strolling, with unmatched grace
Along a rooftop

My root...
Is six years old
Giving a bundle of dandilions
To a girl I thought
Was a boy

My root...
Is the pain of memories
Created by a broken person
Who hurt me
Only as much as she was hurt

My root...
Is a quick glimpse
Of her thigh
As she stepped from the shower
A glistening goddess

My root...
Is 100 stolen memories
With my "straight" best friend
Far from prying eyes
And judgement

My root...
Is ducking
As they threw rocks,
Eggs, insults
Too afraid to say a word

My root...
Is a racing heart
Whenever I happen to spot
A girl who is just
A little more than a tomboy

My root...
Is knowing that
My family will never understand
And still walking proud
Even if I'm walking alone

My root...
Is a lifetime long
1000 insults, 1 million tears
While hanging onto the knowledge
That true love is unconditional

My root...
Is the insult of my birth
Into this world
Where I have to have
A root at all

Written during the Queer Tales writing workshop w/ Kimothy Shaughnessy 
Prompt: What's your "root"
-Although originated in oppressive psychoanalysis, many LGTBQ folks now joke about what their "root" is, or what childhood experience it was that their queerness stemmed from.  Such as having a babysitter that forced them to watch Cabaret each time she came over, having a mom who rode a motorcycle, being dressed as Charlie Chaplin for Halloween etc.