"Don't be a bother",
"Don't trouble",
Don't ride
That rollercoaster of feelings
That holds you aside;
A side of yourself,
That self you will hide,
Both inside and out,
Leaving out the inside.
Back in the closet
With the skeletons, see?
The ones with the backbone
That nobody sees.
It's under the skin,
Like a ribbing or dig
To the corpse
In the grave,
Something meant to keep hid.
But the closet's for clothes,
For things to be you,
And your share of the closet
Is you given to view;
To be you, unbothered
Unbothering, see?
To see you is backbone
The skeleton free.