Im thinking about my brother tonight
About how he grew up in a time and an era where he was the most hated thing on earth
About how my grandmother cursed out my mother for daring to not only date but procreate with a black man
And how in 30 small years my grandmother changed her tune all the way to my brother being her favorite grandchild
I dont know the whole story
and honestly its not mine to tell
But I think of it all the time
How alienating and confusing it must be
to go from ‘the fucking offspring of a black man’ to the rich, well learned man everyone loves
I think about how my brother has never once said he is gay
And the only reason we know for sure is not his voice, nor his tutu’s, nor the cocks decorating his home
Its his ex-boyfriend and how at a party he told my mom who he was
Honestly sounds like a dick, glad he’s an ex, what with outing my brother like that
That my brother never said, either cause he doesn’t care to share, or maybe cause hes still living in a time, where such things were unspeakable
I think of the kid who came into my store, and said loudly and proudly ‘I am Queer’
I think of my brother then
And how not a single rainbow adorns his home
What on earth could have made him shut himself up from the rest of the world
And destroyed all the color in him.
