Behind the Closet Doors

Behind glassy caves
Truth begins to stir
asking for release;
relentless.

tap

I hold his hand
gripping it tighter as family and friends observe
silently
judging.

tap

I touch his body
the hair, the muscles, the shape
rough under my fingertips
alien, strange
wrong.

tap

He speaks of the future
a life together, marriage, a family
everyone’s dream.
It does not belong to me.

tap

Something’s wrong.
This is not my life.
What’s happening to me?
Who am I?

crack

She skips past, takes my hand
wearing my face with a stranger’s eyes,
laughing, smiling, beckoning me
I follow; my heart soars; I am weightless.

Wait

My happiness is shackled
trapped, snared, shaped by society
allowed only brief glimpses
of the forbidden fruit.

Each day wears down the closet door a little more.
Perhaps one day I will crawl through
triumphant
happy

me.