i, too, know how it feels to be holy, to have wrought gold nestled in my dark hair, spread out on crisp white sheets with wings on either side of me, sunlight pouring down on my glory.

i, too, know how it feels to be depraved, halo turned to horns, once again tarnished and imperfect, a man between my legs so deep that i’m afraid he crawled inside me and never left.

i, too, know how it feels to go from angel to sinner to taste god then kiss the devil to welcome heaven but embrace hell.

i, too, am afraid.