Who were you before you stole my heart? Before you broke it? You turned out to be so many people, So many versions of the same boy and yet the one I loved was nowhere to be found. His imposter stole the love that belonged to him, I wonder what new closet he lives in now. I bet it’s filled with a camouflage uniform and government issued boots, hung together neatly under a shining spot light, this country's flag, the illuminated backdrop, highlighting all those shades of green. But there, in the shadows, I bet there is a dust covered pink, purple, and blue flag, a picture or two of a boy who used to smile, and maybe an old forgotten beanie. Those shadows are haunted with an echo of laughter and out of tune piano keys, and I can’t help but wonder if you ever look into this part of your closet, but likely you just put on your monkey suit and go out into the world, still hiding from everything, including yourself. Every time you walk into wherever you call home, or the home you rarely get to visit, I bet you have it somewhere in the back of your mind, the back of your closet lives in all of your shadows. All of your shadows you have become blind too, all of your shadows live in the fondest places of my memories, but shadows hold nothing more than hidden lies and whispered secrets, your shadows fit in so well with 4 years of my life, but these shadows are where our happiness went to die and that uniform is the resting place of your soul, the morphine you inject repeatedly in your mind in order to be the perfect little soldier. The perfect little robot with just enough bolts and screws to function, but nothing is working properly, nothing is beyond, nothing is felt inside those metal plates dressed in green camo, what are you hiding from, little robot? That camo is not enough to save you. And it will never make you a real man, and every time you lie to yourself, your smile grows instead of your nose and it couldn’t look more fake, more wooden and begging to break away from the lie. Maybe someday you will look further into your old closet, I wonder what ghosts you will feel inside, behind the monkey suit and government issued boots and only when you face it, will you be done with hiding. But I would not be surprised if you are hidden forever, inside everywhere but your closet.
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