Denying

Author's notes: Some (many?) struggle with the knowledge that those closest to us disapprove, in one way or another, of our fantasies and some aspect of ourselves. Fantasies that most would not consider perverted nor deviant, but simple, every day fantasies. I wrote this poem as my own attempt to deal with that, hoping that the writing would help me shove the problem aside, if not solve it. Writing the poem hasn't helped in the long run. And I don't know how to solve the problem. But here is the poem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day a door closed,
And another opened.

I struggle to forget the fantasies that lie
Behind that closed door.
I strive more to explore
The promise beyond the open door.

I peer ahead as through a prism,
The light refracted by objects of my desire,
Awash in waves I do not sense, nor scent, nor hear.

Behind me, forbidden to my yearning,
A magnet’s pull, unrelenting,
A dark seducing tunnel
Beckoning with want, need, greed.
How can it be so overwhelming, or I so weak?

At last, resigned, I turn away, close all doors,
And speak no more.
Lock memory and need inside,
And hide…

Until next time.