I spent over thirty years in the closet because of you. For you. To please you.
I slept with men for you. Dated emotional and financial abusers to at least keep me safe from your wrath.
I wasted and ruined my youth on your behalf. Because you demanded it of me.
Most of the pain of my adult life has come from the closet you built and shoved me into.
I tried to hide my light for you, to not shine for you. I’ve sacrificed more for you than even I know.
And now you want to fly my flag, to claim my dead, to erase the hatred that fueled this.
You want to talk about Islam and mental illness, but not the Islam or mental illness of queers.
You want to blame some foreign outsider for your home grown hatred.
I sacrificed my life to you, in the hope you wouldn’t kill me.
And this is how you repay me?