i am nothing but a poltroon.

i do not understand why thoughts disturb me so. i should not cower from feelings i have within. why do i try to detest them, deny them, or doubt them? morals, the surrounding, or just sheer experiance? for i fear confessing my true feelings to one whom strikes me as beautiful, oh how effulgence the thought echos in my mind. the fear of admitting to myself that i truly desire the abnormal, not by choice but by some unknown factor within, something borne by my birth and nothing more. the sheer idea of admitting to mine parents, mine goddess and lord, the disdain from their hearts being too consuming and terrifying to dare attempt such a brazen act makes mine heart cowar, such is me, a poltroon.

• Published December 19, 2019, 20:12
• in Kiddie Pool
• in Vents and or Rants
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