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Adept
Hiding was something I remained good at
For years afterwards, I would hide
From the things that I feared
And from the things that feared me
My spirit was on lockdown, and I
Kept the parts of myself hidden
That I was terrified the world would see
But truth is a flower that takes root quite well
In the darkest of places, and with the
Virtue of patience it waits for
The gleam of someone's eye
To make it bloom
You cannot smother my truth without my consent
And you
Quite plainly
No longer