Secrets are poison.
They eat away at you from the inside.
I doubt there’s a single person in the club that would have a problem with who I am.
Keeping my mouth shut is all about my own shame.
Who I am isn’t acceptable.
That’s what my Fundamentalist family raised me to believe, but even after leaving home, I couldn’t be myself.
Fighting against it never really became a struggle until the flirty bartender set his eyes on me.
He made me wish for things I couldn’t have.
Resisting him was easy until that first kiss.
Now there’s a very real chance my shame will ruin us both.