I am Not a Criminal

I remember where I was when I got the news

Kenya would not be decriminalizing homosexuality.

My heartbeat took over the silence.

Loud.

Tumultuous. 

Unbearable.

I am here.

I am not a criminal. 

In another life I would have gone out

found a beautiful woman

and danced like we didn’t know the sun would rise again.

I would have lowered the load from my back

letting the sway of our hips

answer all the looks. 

Instead I am listening to my heart

begging the universe to accept it.

Loud. 

Tumultuous.

Unbearable.

I am here.

I am not a criminal. 

In another life I would be in a space that can accept me.

I would walk through school, welcome.

My school would not ask me to deny myself.

I would open my mouth

the words on my tongue, unafraid.

Refusing to bend, to bow. 

I sit here and wonder why I am questioning being alive.

My heart beating should be proof.

Loud. 

Tumultuous.

Unbearable.

I am here.

I am not a criminal. 

In another life I would not have to explain

that I am not a criminal.

My love would be.

Loud.

Tumultuous. 

Unbearably unapologetic.

My heart would say

I am here.

And Kenya would be able to hold it.

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