unlock me by degrees
unlock me by degrees, to me it’s just a muttering and silence, a prayer, violence to the quiet, and “no, thank you, i’m quite content here on my own,” unconvinced and shaking fists powerful, but behind my own eyelids, still shrinking and masking, skin just flapping, closing out the gifts of a moment, if only i’d let light flutter in, but it's only a promise hidden somehwere in heaven, and these two windows operate by remote switches just a look--there--a sound, regrettably familiar, and clap. shut. no voice. no waking. hiding fire. hiding from fire. raining hail, raging brimstone, burning against a black wall, stabbing another with soft shelled questions, so i recover, and if i don’t know what to do with my own reactions, what will i do when i come to You? all coals are ash before all consuming fire. i would burn or run or scream or worse, miss it all. are these lenses only veils that mask the light? thin places might’ve been in me, but i stand, i’ll manage my way to death and administrate my own answers, no matter, ever leaving me with me. when all is said and done, i see that i don't see and somehow i see You. and when i said unlock me what i really meant was “find me out, Lord, somehow untangle this.” and suddenly, i hear the whir of a locksmith's grinder, the firing of metal, the click inset, the opening, and i confess, it's still beginning, again. Amen.