You take the worst of you.
You take the worst and hide it away,
Deep in a dark building,
In its dark basement,
In the darkest room,
And lock it away.
Hidden and forgotten.
You hide it because you’re ashamed;
You hide it because you can’t erase it.
So it’s buried with all your flaws,
Mistakes,
Regrets,
Never to see the light.
Time convinces you this is who you are.
And you believe it so.

Then someone comes along
And sees what you want to become.
What you can become,
And the light they shine on you
Is the warmest your skin has ever felt.
You want them to know the real you,
Not the version common eyes feast on.

You clutch the key in your pocket,
Twirling it in your trembling hand,
Wanting to hand it to them,
Allow them to venture to the depths of your failures.
You want them to see it and exclaim
“I still accept you.”

The thought fades,
And you’re reminded of the storage
That haunts the basement of that lonely building.
You see the terrors tucked away
And imagine what this special person would think.

You are a hoarder of horrors,
Too afraid to let anyone see,
And too afraid to let go.