I was afraid of me

There were things I'd never told a soul-

Not even my own, 

For fear that life as I had known,

Would crumble,

Indeed I was afraid of love and afraid to love,

To the point where

My body would crave for it so,

Look at these broken bones!

And all these bleeding dreams

That I destroyed with my bare hands only to be

A second-rate version of me-

Look at the walls I built to keep my secrets inside,

Starting toying with perpetual thoughts of suicide

All over the question of "Who am I?" and "Who do I like?"

Society says its wrong but I have to ask "Why?"

Why is it so wrong for a guy to like a guy?

No more running.

There's no place to hide.

I coming out of the closet,

The closet, this troubled mind of mine.