your perfection peeks through
not devil-dealt but always denied
I glimpse it faintly,
despite the obscuring cloak
that you clutch to yourself,
huddled against false sins
cast off the cloak
embrace the naked state
as before being imbued with gloom
illusion can’t be flogged away
but still you choose the whip
claiming the sting feels a lot like living
or that some days agony beats numbness
but you think you can crack something loose
something that was never there
