Image courtesy Gage Skidmore via flickr
as in, it thinks no one can see it
but it’s the big burly wrestler
in the middle of the room screaming “YOU CAN’T SEE ME!!!” as if
any straight person ever had 3 nose rings?
My bisexuality is like my eyeball,
as in, I can’t see it
but everyone in high school could,
like I didn’t use a mirror ‘til I was 19
& it was always the lens through
which I saw the world. How
in second grade my friends always
slept at the other end of the bed.
My bisexuality is like the thing
a mom in the suburbs with
a manager haircut purchased,
as in, I don’t have the receipt
to prove this belongs to me.
Some days I wish I could return it,
exchange it for something else, something
less muddled so straight guys on Tinder
will stop asking me for a threesome,
like this is just another striptease
performance for the male gaze.
Before, my “straightness” was just
compulsive heteronormativity because
everyone knows bi girls just kiss girls
for attention at high school house parties;
another striptease performance for the men.
My bisexuality sometimes gives me away,
as in, yes, I am more of a cat person &
yes, I’ve dyed my hair red & yes,
I had a rock collection growing up.
My bisexuality is like my arm,
just another really awesome part of me
& no matter how it bends it’s still
always an arm.
My bisexuality is like being straight
or being gay, as in, I don’t have to tell you
about my dating history to be believed.
As in, it doesn’t fluctuate depending
on my partner. As in, I’m always bi,
always queer, always myself.
McKenzie Hurder is a recent graduate from UMass Boston. Her work has appeared in Fleas on the Dog, Rose Quartz Magazine, The Horny Poetry Review, Allegory Ridge’s Aurora Anthology, and is forthcoming in The East Jasmine Review. Follow her on Instagram @elwyn_esque