It’s Pride Month, my darlings; a time to reflect
On which values we value, which folks we protect.
But sadly, this month, I’ve felt flooded with doubt
Though I’m prideful as ever, and still just as “out.”
I’m bisexual, see. It’s a comfortable label.
My life may transform, but that word remains stable.
But other queers argue I’m being bi “badly.”
“Be queerer!” they yell. “But I am,” I say, sadly.
Yeah, I mostly date dudes, but that’s not the whole story.
My attractions are manifold. Sex strictures bore me.
Queers call me “straight” when I date a cis guy,
Or dress like a femme – but I’m still fucking bi.
They called me a lesbian when I “looked more queer,”
But hey, you know what? Still bi over here.
Whatever I do, and wherever I go,
I’m neither a homo nor a hetero.
I’m bi through and through. One hundred percent.
I’m neither confused nor a fraud. I’m content.
Whoever I date and whoever I bone,
I’m still always bi, and I let it be known.
Don’t tell me I’m fake or I’m “not queer enough.”
I’m bi. You don’t like my approach to it? Tough.
My identity’s constant, wherever I am:
On my blog, on my podcast, and everywhere. Bam!
So biphobes, fuck off. Here’s a big FYI:
I’ll always be queer and I’ll always be bi.