Behind Closed Doors

Behind close doors I actually have a personality but yet to be explored...

Because where my heart lives it rains...alot

And the monster in my closet remains lock

At first I would hear the monsters scream and yell to be free

but I knew if I let them out to express what's on my chest my true colors wouldn't blend in with shadows I walk behind

I began to realize those monsters was of no harm

those monsters shown me the beauty behind the most ugliest of creation

I'm living In a world where creativity unlawfully

street artists spraying art on buildings unleashing creativty 

I could hear that monster telling me express yourself

While reality tell me to compress myself

I should let my mind ignite

shedding light upon

every darken night 

But I am a bluff

afraid to take shot at achieving my dreams.

The only trigger I ever seen was trigonometry 

I am becoming blander then paint because even it express it's true colors

in public nothing was read

In public nothing was said

In public nothing was seen

because I can't even conceive a personality

unable to conform to reality

But at home I was having contractions giving birth to new ideas

ready to showcase

but not shown just case

I keep my ideas in my backpocket just in case

but they end up just in-caged behind oppertunities 

lock in my closet

My creativity was no match to my sensitivity to fail

I am Mute

I'm appearing to be less than I'm really am, with robotic emotion to question such as " how was your day?"

confusion intertwine with my mine like vines

but my response was shorter than six seconds

I'll say "Rainy..."

dragging the monster that is in my backpack

paralyzed

screaming thru nonverbal expression

Deceased high school notes with page after page of creativity

creativity is not a sin

its a blessing

creativity don't desevere to be lock or hidden

creativity is no monster

your creativity should be no secret, left behind closed doors