strip me of the defenses i wear
to protect myself from the cold
shoulders, the wicked stares
slip the armor from my speech
and reassure me
that i do not need it here,
past the judgment of the daytime

take the stony demeanor
from where it chafes against
my soft skin-
let it lay, discarded,
on the floor with my guardedness,
my cynicism
let me be the angel
i have learned to smother
let me spread my wings
without bruising them
on mankind's abrasive habits

here, where sin is not forgiven
but rather accepted
have me whole and nothing more
with no more negative
space-
in this room,
mold me, with accepting hands,
into what i always was
into something small, something
honest, something trusting

let me let my guard down