The sun blazed through the blinds as if in morbid curiosity to see this desecration of a shrine. These rumpled sheets, roses to which we were the thorns.
We had torn from each of our faces that facade of british stiff upper lips, the proof of it underneath our nails. We felt stripped of our masculinity, laid bare there under the dust motes gliding effortlessly just as the rush of bitter embarresment gushed in our heart beats. The mirror framed us, holding us in contempt for our mimicry. We had been restless, we were not the men we hoped to be. We shared our shame with the silence of hunched shoulders.
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 
Matt this is a vulnerable and raw piece you have written so well about the ‘masks’ people wear and the pain that comes when those masks are forced off♥️
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Thanks! I was partially inspired by the book ‘giovanni’s room’ by james baldwin
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Great piece Matt 👏
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this makes me sad…I want them to be ok. well written!
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Thanks!
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in the morning light we see we touch … it’s as it was in the moonlight… why do we question the appearance of light… i have enjoyed the visit mr gorilla … and the ever present emotion of shame we carry hidden in the folds of last night’s dream…. i’ll come back
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Thanks for stopping by!
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