the first pride flag i ever touched was at a thrift store

it was tucked

between

a christmas sweater

with a broken reindeer

and a blazer

that smelled like

mothballs

and old perfume

just fabric

folded carelessly

like any other

piece of cloth

waiting

to be

discovered

i almost

walked past

but something

made me

stop

reach out

touch

the rainbow

stripes

with fingers

that had never

been allowed

to claim

anything

that bright

that bold

that

unapologetically

gay

my heart

hammered

against my ribs

like it was

trying

to escape

or maybe

trying

to get closer

to this

piece of fabric

that somehow

felt like

coming home

the price tag

said

two dollars

two dollars

for something

that felt

like it was

worth

my entire

life

i looked around

the thrift store

making sure

no one

was watching

as if

touching

a rainbow

was a crime

punishable

by exposure

by discovery

by having

to explain

why my hands

were shaking

over a flag

that wasn't

supposed to

mean anything

to me

but it did

oh god

it did

i wondered

whose flag

this used to be

did they

carry it

to their first

pride parade

hands raised

high

above their head

singing

and crying

and finally

finally

free

or did they

keep it

hidden

like i was

about to do

folded

in the back

of a closet

waiting

for a day

when it felt

safe

to unfurl

it

in daylight

maybe

they donated it

when they

moved in

with someone

who didn't

understand

or maybe

they died

and their family

couldn't bear

to keep

this reminder

of who

they really

were

i bought it

of course

my first

act of rebellion

disguised

as thrift shopping

carried it home

in a plastic bag

like groceries

like it was

nothing

special

but my hands

wouldn't

stop trembling

at home

i unfolded it

on my bed

spread it out

like a map

to a country

i'd only

heard about

in whispers

and cruel jokes

red

orange

yellow

green

blue

purple

colors

i'd seen

together

a thousand times

but never

like this

never

as home

never

as me

i sat

on my bedroom

floor

and cried

ugly tears

that had been

waiting

seventeen years

to fall

because

for the first time

in my life

i was touching

something

that said

you exist

you belong

you are not

alone

that night

i slept

with the flag

tucked

under my pillow

like a child's

security blanket

like a secret

too precious

to let go

and i dreamed

of parades

and protests

and people

who looked

like me

who loved

like me

who existed

without

apology

the flag

lives

in my dresser

drawer now

still

carefully folded

still

a secret

but less

like shame

and more

like anticipation

waiting

for the day

when i'm ready

to hang it

in my window

to carry it

down main street

to let

the whole world

know

that i

am here

that i

am proud

of taking up

space

in the rainbow

that someone else

let go of

so i

could find

my way

home

two dollars

for belonging

best money

i ever

spent