Secret Shame

The abysmal valley you’ve been sleeping in for your entire life sparks into a fiery horizon without warning. You’re too caught off guard by this sudden change to notice that flames are growing. Rapidly, they eat up everything on the outside of your shell and pursue the light inside of you. They pull it from you and exfoliate you with sharp teeth and burdens. The flames leave no room for judgment or improvement; they only leave room for denial and the harsh stripping of what once made you who you are. You twist and burn.

Slower this time and with even less thought given towards it, the heat grows cold and lonely. The cold towers over the flames and extinguishes them, ready to move on to better meals. It washes over the embers and creates a consistent ash, smoking on your rubble. Once the heat has subsided and all that’s left is isolating cold, the emptiness makes room for a blinding and spectacular light. Everything parts to reveal something clean and new. It’s a beautiful feeling, but still sharp. This new iridescent light has you realizing you don’t know who you are anymore. You’ve been scalded repeatedly and you can’t recognize yourself. You can’t sink into this. You don’t know how to handle the beauty.