Lies can make us,
But they also break us.
Skeletons in the closet,
That nobody ever opens.
If the door is ajar,
Some hearts can be broken.
Sleep with one eye closed,
To keep the skeletons unspoken.
Thinking too much,
That's your only token.
For the skeletons kept in the closet,
To keep their eyes from being faucets.
YOU ARE READING
Mistaken
PoetryA book of poems about the LGBT, depression, selfharm, suicide, freedom, and society.
