Squished Together Comfortably (Closet 1)
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As a child I searched for places of comfort from the insanity of my parent's actions and inactions. I loved to roam the woods, and climb a tree or two--eventually, building some sort of platform and/or fort. However, when leaving the house was not an option, I found refuge and peace in closets. My favourite one was in my sisters room, and it was actually a half- closet, with a floor at waist's height. I'd sit inbetween the coats and other seasonal clothing, and embrace the: silence, smells, distant sounds, and small, comfortable, safe place. (wide open spaces freak me out instead).
Privacy from the world, sometimes from myself.
Words fall sharply,
muffeled in coats.
Scents of safety,
allows traveling in an imaginary boat.
Ride the moth,
that's had his fill.
See all the land,
that sits so still.
a much needed relief.
beyond one's own belief.
A place for a cry,
to hide the tears.
Moments of lonliness,
for not just the queers.
Grow used to the dark,
to see without light.
Never knowing the difference,
between day or night.
(Straining to see through the crack of light)
Feeling the warmth,
as in mother's womb.
So close and tight,
my own private tomb.
Sitting in silence,
lasts only so long.
my personal song.
I hear my own voice,
and feel my own heart.
Knowing full well,
that soon we must part.
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