This world is filled with closets.
They are everywhere. Around us. Within us.
Finding its way through to the last shred of hesitance.
Slithering into broken, stilted conversation.
Sometimes, they unwillingly reveal themselves,
and the words spill out, one truth at a time;
tumbling and trembling, like a drunken slur.

These closets, they snatch and snarl at honesty.
They seduce us softly with their safety,
and fit our lives neatly into themselves,
our souls folding in, as if this is the way it’s meant to be.
They swallow you whole, wrapping you with pride and guile.
Binding you, layering you, protecting you to the brink of suffocation.
Till finally, they define you in half-truths and secrets.
We are what we hide.

This world is filled with closets.
And someday, I will learn to live without a single one.

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Sreshtha Sen is currently studying literature at LSR, Delhi University and is a struggling writer trying to survive what seems to be a laughable mimicry of life. She is usually starving, devouring books, pretending to write, complaining about the lack of significance in her life, and is constantly looking for something witty to add to this description.
Sreshtha Sen

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