Skeleton's Don't Make Good Conversations When They Come Crawling Out of The Close after 30 Years

Open up your eyes.

Open up your heart, 

Maybe you can see

What you feel in the dark.

In the back of your closet

The skeletons you keep

The ones that you know

Just want to speak.

They want to scream

And you won’t listen,

But you know

What they’d say

If they ever would 

Get to see the light of day.

So tell the whole world

How you feel on the inside

How easily you anger,

Over practically nothing

And fret about things

Out of your control.

Constantly freaking out

Constantly wigging. No,

It doesn’t have to be that way,

But you keep making that mistake

Of riding on highs, 

And flowing through lows.

Ignoring the people

Who care the most.

You know that you do it

Or why would you be here

Writing for everyone to hear.

To see where you’re at,

And how disappointed in you

That you are;

You know that you are afraid of the dark.

Though no matter what you do,

You can’t convince you

To do what you know

Needs to be done.

Yet you continue to shut yourself off

And procrastinate

When you know 

That you need to exterminate

All the things in your life

That are holding you back

From becoming a better man

The man that you’ve wanted to be,

Before you succumbed to peer pressure

And to your depression,

To your dysphoria and manic obsessions.

You don’t know who you are,

But know who you want to be;

But you can’t let go of these images

Of who you know that you should be

Know who you could be,

But you don’t want to be, a slave

But you already are.