I choose not to believe the words I was called,
Stupid, ugly, smelly, gay.
The hurt was not 'in love' or for 'my own good,'
I don't care if that's how it happened in your day.
You chipped away bit by bit at what little confidence I could muster,
I was hurt, lost,scared,
Alone and feeling bad.
Your tongue left scars deeper than a knuckle duster.
My scars were healed with love, acceptance and trust,
Forgiveness of those who 'knew no wrong'
A belief in myself and where I belong.
I have a purpose, a meaning I am no longer 'Just.'