THE SUN IS NOT MY FRIEND
I am scared of the sun, its heat,
The light it brings; it burns, it singes
And stings my broken skin.
It peels me open and layers upon layers
Of mould, of rust, of cobwebs, or dust are revealed.
It bares me, unclothes me
And puts me in the centre;
Unprotected, uncovered, revealed.
I am scared of this truth;
The crisp sizzling spark of melting lies,
Of exposed parts, long pinned in the dark.
I do not want to be seen,
Bared, naked, open before the world.
I need the darkness of night
To clothe me, drape me in shadows;
To hide my sins, my stains, my broken skin.
I do not trust the sun;
It gives me no room to soar;
It shackles me and upbraids me;
It breaks me and shames me.
But the moon; oh the moon its silver light
Becalms me, soothes the thrashing waves
Of my beleaguered soul and takes me home
To a place where my sins mean nothing,
And the darkness that crouch within me
Is but a charcoal stain
Easily cleaned with a kiss.
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