When Will The Darkness End?

The other option looms over me like a dark cloud before a thunderstorm.

Gay, Woman, African American.

Everyone else is in the line up

But my identity is reduced to Other.

Never acknowledged.

Some people think it isn’t even real.

But I click the Other option because it’s all I have.

It’s all I’ll ever be.

Some days, I want to cry out

“I’m Asian, Lithrosexual, and proud!”

But no one is there to hear me.

I lock myself away from others,

Not know how to manage the overwhelming feeling

That I am nothing to people.

That I am nonexistent to people.

That there are not others like

Me.

I want someone to be the support under my bridge.

The teammate in my battle.

The sidekick to my hero.

I want others to hear my words

That flow like a river

To tell my story.

I want someone to acknowledge the fact that I am valid.

That I do exist.

That I am real.

The other option looms over me like a dark cloud before a thunderstorm.

When will the sunlight come?

When will the darkness end?

I’m a young aspiring writer trying to figure out life. (She/her)