[Note from the Author : I wrote this at a time when I could only turn to the internet while I was coming to terms with my sexuality. I have to admit Gaysi was a big part of that. But at the same time there was a deep fear that my tech-savvy mother might just discover something and that I would not be able to lie to her about sexuality. I hope you like it.]
I delete entire portions of my life.
I don’t just hide. I delete.
I delete my browser history. I delete any memory of hashtags.
I delete RSS feeds of spaces where I feel free. Words that comfort me.
Telling me that I can feel. Shame, fear, love
I delete songs that speak to me
More than they ever should.
For every step I take forward , I look back to erase my footprints.
I want to be invisible, yet noticed.
I want to be anonymous, yet have an identity.
I create and destroy. No. Wait. I delete.
I am gay. I see no black and white. I just blend into the grey.
Of uncertainty, confusion, acceptance. Confusion again.
My mind is a haze. A fog that refuses to clear most days
I feel things I should not. I censor not just my words but my heart
I feel the fear hit me like darts.
I feel shadows overtaking my path.
I feel the floor giving away. Become stable again. Give away. Again.
My days are both good and bad.
So are my moments.
I feel the need to break the silence.
But silence is my only security.
I create barriers to my heart. My words.
Passwords protect my vital parts. My words.
I fear that even erasing a footprint creates another one.
Like shadows lurking in the dark.
I walk with shadows.
Of hopes, delusions, heartbreaks of the past.
I give way to them sometimes. I write. And then
I delete myself everyday.