being in a dark place gives you
plenty of time to think
so as I sit in this closet I wonder what
would happen if I opened the door.
would my mother still be able to call me
her daughter knowing that she likes girls and guys?
would my father go to an AA meeting one day
and never come home knowing his daughter
could one day get married to a woman?
would my brother not understand or would he
understand but not accept it?
would my grandparents still hug me knowing that
one day I could wake up in a woman's arms?
would my aunt and uncle drag me to the nearest
church and ask God to forgive me and then go home
and pray for me before eating dinner?
would they ever let me near my little cousins again
thinking that they could turn out like me?

being in a dark place gives you
plenty of time to write.
so I write about what I think life is
like outside this door, I write about
the slivers of light that come through
the cracks in the door and how wonderful it
must be to see it in all its glory.
I write about the shakiness I get in my hands
whenever a distant relative asks if I have a
boyfriend yet I write about all this and tuck
it away like a child trying to hide a
broken item from their parents because
they don't want to get in trouble.

being in a dark place gives
you plenty of time to hope
although it is hard to come by,
it's all you really have.
so as I sit in this closet getting ready
to endure another sleepless night
I hope that one day my hands will stop
shaking long enough for me to
finally open the door and be able to live
in the light I have only seen in small pieces
and I hope that when this
day comes, if it ever comes
I won't be alone like I am right now.