Glass Closet

Everybody knew but me.
Knew, yet denied, what I’d be.

The tools they used; simple books.
Young & deep; they set their hooks.

I could not right unknown wrong.
Prayed for death; but survived long.

Coming out wasn’t heeded.
Fought a battle they’d ceded.

I’ve made mountains from molehills.
Arms invite & shoulders kill.

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lbstowe

I see the world through a Painter’s eyes and process it with a Poet's Heart....it's quite a harsh place for the soul. It scratches and wears your true self down, at times, but the Beauty is Addictive. I feel for everyone I encounter. Everyone I encounter is a teacher if I'll let them be. I Empathize with everyone I talk to & I Think about Everything-LEVi

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