Someone once told me
“Practice the art of indifference.”
And through this theory grew a vine,
Twisting and tangling in its grasp
The feelings of my life denied.
And the only time I ache is when I try to
Straighten the chaotic growth...
It’s so much easier to deny that which we hold inside.
Fearing that should someone but glimpse our reality
We would implode from the intensity of their polite curiosity...
So buried beneath the weakness of our resolve
Lay our innermost possessions
~ Sacred and yet denounced ~