To be 100% true is to be naked.
Perhaps that’s why it’s
called the naked truth.
I can no longer hide
behind this mask.
Behind these layers I’ve laid down.
To show you who I am,
I must, layer by layer,
remove the armor.
Separating the truth from the not
requires cutting away.
The knife feels serrated.
The pockets of resistance,
the places I most fear your rejection,
are the hardest to reveal.
As I show it to you,
I must within
heal it, too.
For how can I expect you
to accept this part of me,
if I, myself, cannot let it be?
Breathing in, I remove the chainmail: Inspiration.
Breathing out, I peel back the flesh: Expiration.
Exposed now for you to see.
Open, feeling, being, breathing.
I want to run from it,
as much as to it.
Revealing soft, supple flesh.
Now you see
another part of me.
Naked.
Revealed.
Pulsating in vulnerability.
No longer evading the light,
I can now rest more easily
in the truth of me.
Namaste.
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