A sanctum of denial,
Concealing my faults--
A cushion of half-truths;
How many layers have
Amassed over the darkness
Underneath?
Countless years of internalizing,
Clasping the faults close,
Hands like golem and his ring
In my chest, shaking with
The anxiety I knew I shouldn’t
Keep—but cherished anyway,
Secret, mine, a way for me
To feel in control.
How long will I delay
The inevitable breakdown

That comes with realizing
All my most incarcerated,
Ebony-black thoughts
And parts of myself
Are with Him, and He
Only loves me
no matter
how dark
they are.