The Closet Collection
By Graham Hartley
Graham Hartley presents his first Matthew’s Place poetry collection in the themes of coming out and spooky season.
Skeletons
We all have skeletons in our closets.
Limp bones that sway with the breeze of the dead.
Displayed like a windchime,
Bleached from toe to head
We all have skeletons in our closet.
Some store bought, others attached at the hip.
Forever present, forever near,
And for some of us, a nightmare full of fear.
For most, skeletons are displayed in October,
But not mine you see.
She stays locked up, or at least for now she’ll be.
My skeleton is closeted and has no room to breathe.
Tucked away too much longer,
I shall start to seethe.
I have a skeleton in my closet,
And I don’t know how to say,
Mom, Dad this is me.
Can I stay?
Jack-o-Lantern
Hey Jack, it’s me again.
The autumn leaves fall around us,
And I wanted to know where we stood.
In the center of the street, on the corner of the lawn,
Or in a car with a closed hood,
We’d stay until dawn.
This is me checking in,
I’m trying to do better.
Tired from the hiding,
Exhausted from fear
Time just biding,
Until we can be together, near.
Each day a knife,
Etching its way towards my heart
My emptiness causing strife,
Coldness cascading, loneliness wading.
I see you every day.
Plastered smile, warm candle lit from the inside.
A beacon of warmth on a night of terror.
You keep the march of crawling shadows at bay.
But no, Jack, I cannot stay.
Your light shines confidently through the dark,
But little doth my family see,
That even though my orange skin unmarked,
A candle shines bright inside me.
Masking
On Halloween, people mask,
As demons, ghosts and ghouls are one’s task.
Covering up their true selves,
A soul into another doth delve.
Prancing about in the cloth of another,
None can tell a sister from a brother.
For masking hides intentions,
And masking provides safety.
However, while others mask up in autumn,
Mine is forever, per annum.
Hello World
Hello World.
I respect myself.
What a simple phrase.
A phrase frequently fraught with peril and panic,
Purposely posed to prod one off the precipice.
But the phrase has ceased to bring grief.
Only inspiration and belief.
Hello World, here I am.
On the peak of myself,
Looking back on footsteps
That slowly fade away behind me.
I now honor the universe inside myself, in which all things dwell.
An unwarranted anger and hatred, quelled.
Hello World, I am me.
At least for as long as I be.
No longer broken, simply free,
I’m doing better, you’ll see.
The dialectical world views me
As I gaze back.
Not sure of my place,
But with confidence, well braced.
Dancing Leaves
Dancing, fluttering, beat of the night
Like a witch my heart takes flight.
A heartbeat drags whenever you are around.
Like a leaf from a tree, ground bound.
With a swirl and swish from the sky.
An autumn fall catching eye.
Disappearing, a life of sauna,
Fiery stars, Nirvana.
A composition never before seen,
Music, no, a melody tears at my heart, mazikeen.
Yet you are the voice of the wind, my dancing leaves,
Mesmerizing patterns, you turn from green.
I see you now, my joy from depression.
My love, visible to all, a lesson.
About the Author
Hello friends, my name is Graham Hartley and my pronouns are he/him/his. I am a student at Depauw University and some of my personal hobbies include playing the Handpan and writing poetry. I love competing in poetry slams and I cannot wait to share some of my pieces with all of you, I hope you enjoy it! Peace and Love.
