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