Having Closed Myself Like A Bud That Never Flowers I Have Lived. Poem by RIC BASTASA

at this age
of my own
inconsistency
i am reminded
of sin

things that i
must detest are the
very things that
i keep doing

things that i really
love are those that
are not always there

things that i dream of
remain to be
just dreams

did i not tell you
i love you and yet i
am ashamed of you?

did not my heart rejoice
over a kiss
and yet my mind keeps on
hiding what it is

these are the moments
of my inconsistency

i love freedom and i want
to be free
but here i am bound by its
own whims

and i keep saying to myself
"be restrained', that is the
only way to be free
that is the only way to be
happy

into the open i keep myself
closed
and having closed myself like
a bud that never flowers
i have lived.