my own   
singular and adamant    leading me
to the door I have kept closed    too long
my shaking hand    rotates the knob
                 and pushes    hard

no giant gust    of fresh air    no
blast    of bright sun    greets me
just a terrifying

              o p e n n e s s

my pulse    is a bullhorn    shouting in my ear
behind me    doubt    whispers and waits

I feel skin stretch    break open    and
              my invisible self
                                             steps out