My Pivotal Moment: A Stolen Kiss

While recently going through some old files I found a poem that I wrote back a couple of years ago. I wrote it a few days after an encounter that changed my life on several levels. Emotionally it bonded my friendship with several individuals and till this day I am still thankful for my girlfriends who were with me that night of this specific encounter and gave me the inner strength that I needed.
I feel we all have those pivotal moments that change us; those moments that mold us and flourish inside that make us mature and see the world for what it is. For me, that pivotal moment happened on that night where I personally encountered hate. And not hate on the superficial level, but hate on the personal level that I had only heard stories about. This was the kind of hate that my Mother worried about when I came out of the closet. The kind of hate where small-mindedness and bigotry thrived. In a matter of minutes the people I thought I had started to form a friendship with was burned and destroyed because of one action – an action that was not initiated by me.
Of course the individuals who played part in this event tried to use liquor as their excuse for the punches that were thrown, for the ignorant slurs that were said, and for the “miscommunication” that occurred, but I would have no part in their forgiveness. I did not accept their lack-luster apologies nor did I silence myself from my feelings towards them. It was at this time in my life where I knew that I would not allow myself to play the role of the victim. I would not allow my sexual orientation used against me. I would not be made weak by individuals who were on the level below me. It may seem like a joke to some when I say this, but in all honesty it was this pivotal moment that made my inner “bitch/asshole/hard exterior” thrive, and for that I am thankful.
With that being said, I give you my poem of my pivotal moment:

A Stolen Kiss
A night of liquor swells my head
a stolen kiss
leads to future dread.
She knows what she is doing.
I am sober.
No,
I am inebriated;
a stolen kiss.
She rapes my defenseless lips.
She tastes cheap and tactless.
A weak fist grazes my head.
Then another
and another.
I’m inebriated.
He screams.
I’m confused.
She cries out that he is to blame;
I’m confused.
She used me as her pawn in this illusive game.
I call out, “It’s all ok.”
She cries out, “Why does it matter? He’s fucking Gay!”
He screams,
“FAG!”
Over
and Over,
again and again.
“Fucking Faggot!”
A night of liquor swells my head.
Ignorance surrounds me,
hate engulfs me.
A simple stolen kiss
makes him wish I were dead.
His hate makes me wish
that he was aborted.
She leaves with her miserable life.
He leaves with her.
I’m left standing alone.
I’m confused,
I’m enlightened,
I’m livid.
A toast to another night of liquor.
A cheers to my beaten head.
A horrid stolen kiss.
I wish them both a life of complete unhappiness.

-M.R.