Return To The Closet

The game is over. The damage is done. Fuck you for playing along. Break through the surface only to suffocate. Beating it into me. Burn witches as found. But not this time. Our culture acquires love design. Left naked with nothing but ourselves and contempt for what we're not supposed to be, not supposed to feel, not supposed to see. I will embrace you, we're all beautiful. We all return, confrontation cuts. In the closet, Can't get up. Another definition to keep control. With assorted names we know where to belong.