the closet.

here i am, once again, baffled by my own stupidity.
i am huddled in my lonely frigidity.
been here done that. what's more, i hate it.
i've caused You such pain, hit after hit.
and yet You stand, just beyond these walls,
in splendorous chambers and decked halls.
so why, oh why, do i hide away
in this closet, continuing to stray.
for all this, i am with myself annoyed.
and i say stray, for this is not a motionless void.
but You tap Your feet and wait,
for my eventual arrival at the gate.

i hate myself.