Behind The Curtain

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I define myself by my secrets. 

I count them like scar marks or ticks in the sidewalk and cloak myself in them like curtains. 

I am stitched into a world of sin, but this design is suiting me. 

Nobody asks about it. Nobody knows.

I am scared of my cloak being set ablaze by the bright burn of a new-found light in my life. 

I love my skin hidden, this curtain is the only thing protecting me from myself and death.

Who is the true me?

Why am I so afraid to reveal who I am?

I am wrapped in a world of cloaks I will not take off.

They will not appreciate my skin, the golden hue of it or the shimmer of my arms.

They will not understand the complexity of my curtain. 

I am powerful behind this dark sheet, invisible like a ghost; I do not want to be seen.

They will not love me, like they love me now.

I am a man behind these drapes of my mystery and I do not want to be belittled to a boy.

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