Am I to disagree?
Am I to judge?
Am I to stand up?
Am I to fight back?

Are you to stand and watch?
Are you to not do anything?
Are you to protect yourself?
Are you to ignore everything?

Are we to stay together?
Are we to keep pretending?
Are we to lie to each other?
Are we when we’re together?

It’s not that I want it.
The problem is I crave it.
I’ve longed for it.
I am nothing without it.

By all means I never lacked it.
In fact, I had too much of it.
Poison was laced within it.
I grew thinking the problem was it.
At home, all I ever got was it.
For the wrong reasons I was given it.

In elementary, I hated it.
I didn’t want anything to do with it.
Hate always came with it.
Those eyes targeted me with it.
I was hurt badly with it.
The weapon against me was it.

Middle school brought an unhealthy obsession for it.
I listened to the desires of it.
I wanted to be with it.
The poison only grew in it.
I thought I wasn’t me without it.
They hated me for wanting it.

High school taught me to avoid it.
But just like liquor I was addicted to it.
My self-worth was nonexistent without it.
In my eyes, specific people had it .
I begged people to give me some of it.
Some people told me I tried too hard for it.

Now I don’t know how to feel about it.
For me, there’s a taboo surrounding it.
There’s no escaping it.
There’s no escaping the attention.

It’s dark and cold in here.
The only light I receive,
Come from the top and bottom;
One from the angels above,
The other from the fires of hell.
No one seems to be near.

I hang from the rack.
I’ve been in here so long,
It’s practically suffocating me.
But I must wait,
For if I leave now,
I will never be able to go back.

I was given to him before,
Not as a gift or present,
Rather, I was naturally inherited.
I was ridiculed even before.
Before I was brought into the closet.
Now it’s not even a joke anymore.

I hate the closet.
I want to be worn and shown,
But if he does that,
He will meet the same fate.
Hung by a thread.
And he will never leave the closet.

Was it the way I looked or,
Was it how I spoke or,
Was it my personality,
That you didn’t like about me?

Can I change the future or,
Can I change the approach or,
Can I change the destiny,
So you won’t leave?

What if I did this or,
What if I did that or,
What if I did something else;
Would you come back?

I guess I’ll believe,
I guess I’ll also think,
I guess I’ll have to assume,
That I’m always the problem.

I’ve tasted this feeling before;
Every time I enjoy it,
Every time I can’t take anymore.

It starts at the lips;
It goes straight for the head and heart
As it leaves through your fingertips.

This poison only hurts me.
I crave it more despite the fact
A small dose is agony.

I find it in every little thing,
But continuously fail to see the big picture;
Just like Icarus and his wing.

Hugs and kisses are forbidden
Because everywhere I turn
The pain is neatly hidden.

To stop the suffering
I close and lock the door behind me.
But then another one comes knocking.

I leave.

The apprehension as I ascend is like no other.
It fails to compare to:
Meeting the expectations,
Overcoming that trouble,
Completing that task.
And then I reach the summit.

And then I dangle over the edge.
Watching his life slip away,
Hearing the disappointment,
Hiding myself from myself;
It has no equal.
The descent is a pain like no other.

The rise is a feeling so incomprehensible.
I have an abundance of:
Blind hope,
Ignorant happiness,
Unchallenged joy.
That is the feeling I crave.

This is the feeling I purge.
Deep sadness,
Incompleteness,
Suffocating dread;
I have too much of.
The drop is a deepness so empty.

I return.