a door sits cracked before me
but i hesitate
not sure if it’s trap attic or side
but surely not one i anticipated
i wonder if i take this unexpected exit
how many more will stand forever locked and barred
and how many will swing open wide
i hedge and haw
unsure if i have the conviction
to live freely as i believe
to lead by example
with the majority of the world pitted
–my sneering spitting adversary–
if i hold the courage or strength
pondering if that face will shatter everything
the only door i don’t want closed
and if it opens to welcome me in
if i would have the stamina or resolve
or the perfect explanatory exposition
to follow through on the rest
what am i afraid of
the christians—when i only care what a handful think
and none lie in that category
the stigma—i’ve already worn like fine silk
understanding the intricate psychology of mobs and scapegoats
so uncertain
but i know i can’t continue like this
in my prison
with any doors creaking
even this one
that i secretly cherish and revel in
but the other
with its light pooling at my feet
i cannot slam closed
without losing a part of my self
i seek silver compromise
i think i’ll wait
and ask for credentials
©️ 2007
Originally posted on my DeviantArt
Mischa Fox 