On Opening Up

When we first meet,

I will be dressed in a coat of wool.

Waiting for the storm.

And prepared for the ice cold sting,

Of eyes that betray.

But when you hold my hand,

When you warm my heart,

I’ll store away that winter coat.

And you’ll see what lies beneath it.

You’ll see my style, my colors,

My mismatched patterns.

You’ll see that I’m a little different.

My worn out jeans,

And the holes in my shoes,

Will tell you that I’m a little messy.

A little imperfect.

But in that lies individuality,

In that lies me.

Then one by one,

I’ll empty my pockets.

And you’ll see that I carry more than you know.

I’ll empty my weights, and stories and laughter,

And I’ll place them on the table,

For you to see.

I’ll show you each stain,

Each spill and each smudge.

You’ll see the blood and tears,

From my joy and sorrow.

The parts of me that aren’t so beautiful.

Then finally,

I’ll strip myself of each layer.

And when I stand before you,

With my clothes at my feet,

My skin bare,

You’ll see every flaw,

Every scar and it’s story.

Each shallow scratch,

Each cut that digs to my bone,

Will be yours to discover.

I will be yours to discover.

When I stand fully exposed,

To the cold,

To the daunting darkness,

That threatens to consume me,

I am vulnerable.

And I am scared.

But in that, I am strong.

Because true faith,

And true courage,

Is standing naked after a blizzard,

Because you know spring is on its way.