THE CLOSET MYSTIC

you filled me to the brim 

with emptiness,

stuffed me with blank space—

you even acted surprised

when the hunger 

wouldn’t abate.

your opiate didn’t touch

the question 

in my bones.

couldn’t quench the flame

consuming 

the marrow.

and even if I walked 

in fog, I still held 

a compass in hand. 

and did you not wish 

that I’d be scared 

of the mist?

that fear would burn 

like ice,

hold me frozen 

in its grip? 

I learned 

quick enough, that two people exist:

those who fear 

the unseen, and those who it renders

relentlessly curious.

for some, 

the unknown is a border— 

for others, it is a map

meant to guide 

the explorer.

I sought to fill my cup,

but never looked

beyond the rim.

only after leaving home

could I fill the blank space

deep, deep within.