I want to be in the light,
not shoving my haunting secrets
of a wretched past life
into dim corners.
The light is painful,
as my pupils adjust,
but it is warm and real and bright.
I may be ****,
but I'm unashamed.
For grace is not
standing under a spotlight,
but reflecting the Sun.
Reflecting the Son,
the forgiving, unconditional One.