Rainbows sit in my wardrobe

next to white skittles, 

confetti remains and oversized whistles

used breathlessly to make sound waves ripple

past opposers and their prejudice. 

beneath are fabricated alibis

beside the free condoms are endless reasons why

my friend had removed the makeup from around her eyes

before we reached the car.  

Rainbows dance through my music

my library flowing with contrasting beats

with girls singing love songs and the pronouns are “she”

when the house is deserted, consists solely of me;

i’d put on that hidden playlist.

in the songs that i write i might mention a her

and the pot of my brain grabs a whisk, starts to stir

i’ll look through the lyrics and clearly there were

no mention, at all, of boys.

Rainbows fly around my neck

around a little necklace of which i share

with someone who i deeply care

hiding beneath jumpers that we swap and share

or clashing when our lips interlock.

after plotting and planning and rigorous review

collarbone will locate my first tattoo

mum would be furious if ever she knew

of the intertwining venus symbols.

Rainbows dominate my wall

a flag of pride that’s made it’s journey

accompanied by love and pain and learning

promising to not reject questions concerning 

the Rainbows in my heart.