Gay is not a synonym for paedophile!

Before I start this story, just know that this is not the first time it's happened to me...

I started using the bus again last week seeing as I'm a smidge stronger in the arms and can climb steps a bit easier. The only difference - aside form the crutches - is that I no longer sit right at the back, but rather, right in the front... I also sit on the right hand side of the bus (the part that can fit three people)...

So I'm sitting there, minding my own business listening to my mp3 player, looking out the window and generally not bothering anyone... Then this over-protective bitch (I chose bitch over the C*** because I thought it wouldn't be as harsh...)comes on the bus... There were other seats available, but she decides to sit by me... I have no objections to people sitting next to me as long as the don't bother me...

She also happened to have a little boy with her... I guesstimate his age around two... But this is what pissed me off... Instead of sitting like a normal person, she sits on the edge of the seat with her kid on her lap... I never paid much attention to it, but then the bitch kept giving me this kak look like "don't look at  my son" as if to say I'm a child molester... I felt like saying to her " gay is not a synonym for paedophile you C* - uhm Bitch"

This is the third time it has happened to me... my issue is, had I been a more macho, "straight looking" guy, or a woman, that would never have happened... I know I tend to be a bit paranoid, but this isn't paranoia talking, this is pure observation... I get that some parents are just over-protective, but why the look she gave me???

I mean, do I look like a paedophile??? I don't fuckin' think so!!! I should know what one looks like... I was molested... and I can assure you, strangers on the bus don't molest you... family or in my case family friends do the molesting... all I have to say is "Fuck you Lady"... nuff said

Mr Love lace out...

Like, the scars in the mirror

Like, the scars in the mirror

Two reflections,

blinded by distance,

the same yet not identical.

 Two souls,

Damaged by an enemy,

both the same yet not identical

One soul tortured by strangers,

the second tortured by blood

Both abused, inside and out,

tears, blood, semen and saliva

Screaming, shouting, aching and paining

15 year’s , 17 year’s

Reflections broken

Both bodies scarred

Souls shattered like an hourglass

Forever irreversible like the phallus carved on 15’s head,

like the engraving “faggot” from shoulder to shoulder

like the whip scars on his back and bottoms,

ascending from the bottom left to top right

Forever irreversible like the self inflicted cuts on 17’s arms,

like the emotional scars of kin’s denial and for punishment,

like the hot oil burn mark on his back,

Descending from top left to bottom right

15 year’s now 30 and 17 year’s now 32

Escaped somehow, alone but alive

Seeking adhesive to repair the broken shards of soul

To repair the mirror, the hourglass, the heart, the soul

At a gathering they arrive,

The two reflections meet,

The same but not identical,

Sharing their secrets,

mirror fixed

Time and time together,

Hourglass fixed

Topless they share each scar

Side by side 32 to 30

The scars line up,

A heart revealed,

The heart fixed

Together united,

A soul fixed