Red light blackens
as the narrow door creaks open
an invitation to enter
the sacramental space.
Feet are hesitant to move
into the void where I am stripped of my mask
and my sins made known.
I kneel
The springs of the padding beneath me groan
a song of neglect
mimicking the ache of
years in my bones.
I cross myself before the closed window
between me
and my confessor.
Sliding wood
and the reminiscence of
a face disguised by woven metal
reveal I'm not alone.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned
it's been far too long since
I faced myself."
Long enough for the paint to peel
curls of white revealing brick.
Long enough to forget how claustrophobic
my secrets feel,
how trapped,
how small I am in this prettied closet.
I have come to unburden this heart
of a load to heavy to carry further.
Comments
Post a Comment