Mazes

(11/18/2015)
Why is coming out such a process?
An unending, continuous process?
One that never seems to get easier no matter how much practice you've had or how many times you've done it?

I'm sorta in the closet.  Sorta not in the closet.  To some people I'm out.  To others I'm closeted.  Feels like lying by omission.  Feels shitty…
But there's so many barriers (not even including fear) to knock down to get out of the closet.  Saying "in the closet" implies there is only one door, without a lock, to be opened.  Then you step out and it's just that simple.  But it's so not like that at all.   It's many doors that are often locked.  You find yourself crawling out windows you stumbled across in the maze.  You learn to be an expert lock pick.  You draw maps in your mind with explicit protocols on how to escape.
It's uncomfortable.  It's like being stuck in chrysalis.  You know you've transformed into something better, but how do you get out?  Where is the seam?  Where is the weak point through which you'll force yourself?  Force… That's exactly what it is.  You push and prod but rarely do you cajole.  I can't seem to be that tender or nurturing with myself.  I am too preoccupied with remembering my map and how to pick locks…

Chapters

For my third instar,
Back in a cramped chrysalis again,
Feeling like life is a silo
And I am just one single wheat grain.

Molasses

Life is so fleeting,

Yet everything seems to weigh

Very heavily.