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.