Not sure where I was going with this, but oh well!

Written 2011.11.04.


He didn't hide it, at first

it stayed with him, unnoticed,

tucked into his pocket

until they saw it, and they were

amused, confused,

repulsed.

He realized the problem,

so he locked it away in a closet

hiding it from the world

in the cold, damp room

hoping no one would ever discover it.

Yet sometimes, the door would creak open,

and it would creep out, and

they would see it, and he

would hide it, because he

didn't want anyone to know.

To know about his secret.

To know what he was really like.

To know that he wasn't normal.