and I made god in my own image

[plural]

it is how things are
it is how things have been
it is how things will be

how life ambles on

that wound your closest love
placed in the back of your heart

shall never quite heal
never quite close

emotional stigmata
for a false messiah

I stand here
before you
eternally naked
of spirit
of soul

there are no guises left for me here
even my most precious skeletons
lie naked

I wonder how many of you
will ever understand
the first thing
about me

but I fear to ask the question
those of you who have met me
I wonder
how do you balance this picture
with that model

do they seem a coherent image
or
disjointed?

each day
in this place
I face my own demons
dance, laugh and sleep with them
incestuous thoughts and adulterous emotions
revel with us
in a bacchanalian festival
under the open light of day

tell me of your secrets
how do they feel
deep in your heart
in your soul

locked away like something shameful