Ironic, the emotions are no different on the other side.
Having subsisted in the great pretense of…someone else.
when the floods rushed upon me.
It had always been torment that I felt.
the closet door,
love was a feast in which I dined.
Hate a rapturous offender.
Dissidence for a bi-lateral kind.
I bleed now.
As I did,
before the open closet door.
as before the open closet door.
Please to meet you…