The walls were built high around the kingdom,
tall enough to overcome a siege of hate.
Inside, the barriers begin to come down,
and the true me begins to come out.

My face painted like a dragon,
I’m surrounded by so many queens.
I walk through the pavilion and somehow
I feel like this place is made for me.

Bodies under the kaleidoscope marquee,
triumphant voices chorusing Celine.
We’re singing proudly as one that, yes,
our hearts will go on and on.

Here we are, stumbling soldiers,
and we’re coming back to camp.
Our wounds bleeding glitter,
holding one another under the disco ball.

I can be vulnerable here,
show you all my battle scars,
and you will paint them in neon
then ask if I want to dance.

Under the late September sun,
we will all shine on.