In my home there is a closet that houses the true me. The side not many see for fear that they will leave. Inside this closet, so tall and dark, lies a chest where I have locked up my heart. I pass it often to and hear the beating within. I ignore so my true self won’t win. See it wants out. It is not afraid. It wants to show the world who I truly am. I fight everyday, trying to keep it all inside. Making sure the key is always in my sight. One day I got distracted and someone wheedled themselves in. Took my heart from me and tried to keep it with them. I tried to fight them hurt them in every way I could. But they where strong and never gave up. They say my true self and never judged. Oh did it hurt, to be this bare. To have someone know, to have them always there. Always watching, always listening, always talking, so much noise. I felt like I lost a life I never allowed myself to leave. The true me was content though; my heart was loved. My body may have felt shamed but my heart was loved.

To this very day I fight them. I want it back, while I am happy, I still crave the hate. It is easier to bear. Easier than dealing with this unknown love and having someone there.