Nakedness is no longer an option:
The past does not unbutton
You put it on one leg at a time
And the belt cannot be removed
Some of the hats may be forgotten
But they sit on my brow nevertheless
My feet sweat in the pile of socks
While my chest struggles to lift
Each shirt and collar
Conversations are written
Seared into denim
Mostly ignored
But sometimes filling my vision
Moments of regret
Guilt, the build-up of shame
These clothes sag most heavy
When I try to shrug them away
The way is to pull them skin tight
And wear the heaviness like what it is:
A part of me outside, moved in
Roman Ryan 