june 20, 1973

i sit in this cold, bleak cell as tears

fall like rain on the old, dirty floor.
inmates sleep in the cells next to mine
but i can’t sleep.

i don’t think i’ll sleep again here.

i’ve made mistakes, sure

everyone has at least once.
but i didn’t think being myself
was that big of a mistake.

i was wrong.

i've been here two weeks already

and it's been a nightmare.
i’ve gone through more stuff
in two weeks than i have in the previous 18 years.

i just want to be safe.

i’m beaten almost daily by

grown men who think i’m their punching bag.
i’ve been raped by groups of men
who wouldn’t care if i died.

i yelled stop and they never did.

i guess my only purpose is to

be a plaything for everyone else here.
the guards don’t care what happens to me
because i’m not what is “socially acceptable.”

i’m not worthy of anything.

i just want to go home to a place

where I am safe.
but then i remember that i
am never safe and can never go home.

i don’t even know what home is anymore.

i close my eyes to try and
sleep but all i see is the men here.
the men who’ve beaten and raped me
like rabid dogs until i can’t move.

i’m so tired of being here.

i am done with these heartless pigs who dangle the keys

to my cell above my head and still say they’re good people.
i’m done with seeing the keys to my cell always out
of reach, never close enough to grab.

i guess i’m not allowed to be free.

i’ve heard what you’ve done

for us and i can’t help but be proud .
but then i remember that most of the people
that are supposed to be on our side aren’t.

i wish it wasn’t just us against the world.

i just wish we were accepted

for how we are.
i wish we didn’t have to watch our back
all the time in fear of being arrested.

i think we all do.

i want to know why

we’re the ones being targeted.
i want to know why
we can’t live normal lives.

i want to know why us.

i want to be safe and secure without

worrying about when my next meal will be.
i want to know that i won’t be jumped
on the street because i’m “different.”

i just want to be accepted and feel okay.

~ amara
(#2)
June 18, 1973

Sylvia Rivera,
I’m scared. No, not scared. Terrified. I’m terrified here in jail. I’m terrified of what’s going
to happen when I leave jail. I’m terrified to walk out on the streets for fear of being jumped. I’m
terrified of what I’m going to have to do to make money because I won’t be able to get a job.
The women here keep giving me dirty looks, like at any time I might pounce on them
because I’m more male presenting. I think I’m too late to do that since they’ve already pounced
on me. They’ve beaten me up more times than I can count, and the guards haven’t done
anything about it. Sometimes they even rile up inmates so they get mad and take it out on me.
I want to scream. I want to escape. I want to be free, but I know I’ll just be arrested again
for the same reason. Being gay.
I just want to know why is it so wrong to be myself? All I’m doing is being who I am,
loving who I love, and I’m not hurting anyone, but the police still are after me. After us.
This whole thing makes my head hurt. On one hand, I’m angry about the fact that we are
being arrested and beat up for being gay. But on the other hand, I’m scared to fight against the
law because I know I’m not a fighter. I couldn’t even participate in the Stonewall uprising without
one of my friends shoving her stiletto in my hand to throw.
When it comes to all the things related to the uprising, I am so proud of what’s already
happened for the community, but then I remember that we still have a long way to go before
we’re finally accepted and not thrown in jail. Even then, if we manage to have the legal right to
be left alone by the law for being gay, there will still be people who don’t accept us and will
continue to discriminate against us.
I want all of us to be able to get jobs so we can stop hustling for little cash. I want us to
be safe being ourselves. I know it sounds like it will be a long, long time before we get to that
point, and it might, but when we do, it will be one of the best feelings in the world.

~ Cade
(#3)
june 17, 1973

i sit in this dreary cell, as my hand is moving

quickly across the page, scrawling out
this poem, not knowing when it will reach your hands

i walk the halls of this jail everyday

and i tense up anytime i pass by
anyone here because i feel unsafe

i cry myself to sleep every night,

much to the dislike of other inmates
and i keep getting called a cry baby for it

i am so tired of living in this cell

everyday with no one here to listen
to what i have to say

i lie awake most nights, unsure of

what is waiting for me when i leave
this horrible, inhumane place

i think to myself that maybe being

even the littlest bit open about my identity
was a really bad idea

i sometimes wonder about how my life

would play out in a different reality and if
i would still be in jail right now

i want to be able to live without

worrying about being arrested or
beaten up for being gay

i am so tired of being beaten up

and treated as if i’m not human
just because i’m gay

i just want to go home, but

i don’t know where or what my home is
or if i’ll ever have a chance to be safe again

~ haven