Closet Ruffles

I feel cold.

There seems to be nothing left as I find myself broken down to the internal bits. I am surrounded by piles and parts of black- pieces that stain my eyes with inky darkness even if I glimpse at them. I wish them away, I no longer want to be trapped in the middle of this pool of shade despite the fact that I have built a bridge out of this loathsome material only to have it give way before it spans half the chasm.

The crevasse is deep and horrible, echos of pain and dreariness reverberate slowly up though the viscous air only to meet my ears with weary moans. As my bridge gave way, I noticed that there was no good that could come of the piles of frustration that had gathered about me and that I had no hope in removing them on my own.

So I sit.

The dank night has closed in around me, surrounded me in my small dwelling: held under siege by my own faults. I can do naught but watch and wait as the opportunity for peace is a looming, thrumming force that I seldom have hope for now.

The lights have gone out, the shadows are complete.

But what I don't realize at first is the tiny pinprick of light that seems to come from my left. It drifts towards me, drawing closer and closer to my outstretched arms, arms raised in a silent and desperate plea for aid.

The light floats about my fingers, weaving in and out before I realize that it is there. I gasp and remember.

One always seems to find the stark and pure brightness of grace when life seems devoid of such goodness.

It is real. I said to myself as my heart seemed to swell. From my faith that has seemed to triple as the little light move about me, I start to see the difficult bits being swept up and away. I do not know where they vanish to, only that with every sliver of night, I feel as if a rock has been lifted from my shoulders and back.

Soon I am able to move my legs again, the pain and weight of the bleakness giving me truth to cling to and new hope to fashion.
I have something of value now.

I have something that they are jealous of and because of Him I am able to hold that aloft.

Are you alright? He asks me. He is so immaculate and clean, well put together and pristine that I have to shield my eyes for a moment before I am able to truly see the brightness of this man.

I do feel better, thank you. I mutter in reply. I can hardly meet the serene gaze of the voice that smiles into my thoughts, the words that smooth my matted hair and hold my hands in front of me.

He looks at my hands. They're lovely, you know. Not a question, a statement. I look at the skin that lines them and see the dry, cracked scabs and the ripped nails and cuticles that swim before my vision. They are hardly beautiful but he looks past the horrific picture of disarray.

I take his hands and gasp.

Twin holes mark the flawless skin leaving a perfect sphere to the other side. I lift his hand to my eyes and can see through it- through the mark that in any other situation would have made me grimace but now, now I just feel sad.

Why? I ask him.

Because. He shrugs. I have this feeling that you will be someone worthwhile. 


I snort and look away. I have never been worthwhile, I have never been of particular value, why should I start now?

I look at him with eyes that I can feel are large and brimming with sadness. He looks right back into my pupils, what feels like both at once and the heart-wrenching calm I feel is enough to help me to let go of the darkness and to instead focus on the gleaming white of his gown.

I look at my own, a muddied, stained frock that hardly fits as it clings to my frail frame.
You don't need that anymore, he whispers. I shoot him a quizzical look and my hands have a brief tingling sensation.

My body goes warm and then as soon as it came, the heat fell away and I was left standing in green; a dark, lush evergreen with proper ties and a length that wouldn't get in the way.

It's gorgeous! I gasp, feeling the satin beneath my fingers.
My fingers! The skin is healed- no longer riddled with lesions and breaks but rather smooth and whole.

I - I don't know what to say! I tell him.

I don't want you to say anything, he replies. I just really love you... I do want what is best for you, my girl. 


Why am I here? I reply. Why, if what is best for me is what you want, am I struggling so hard to get out of this place?


Well, have you any hope? Or faith?


I cock my head and shake it.

Love, that would be a problem! Why would you think you would get out if you don't believe you could? You've had the ability all along just haven't had the faith to use it.


He smiles warmly, one that reaches to the bottoms of his eyes and leans towards me, kissing my forehead.

I will see you soon, my girl. He says as he starts to fade. And I've taken your burdens as mine. 


I look about me, my new robe rustling gently against my legs. He was serious- he had removed the struggles that I was caught in- the brambles that had held me down for so long. He had taken them! I was done!

I closed my eyes and felt a few tears well up behind my lids, threatening to spill down my cold, gaunt cheeks into a pool of inky darkness at my feet. But these tears are not from pain or despair.

These were from pure joy alone.
And I made my way to the other side, to the sunlight just beyond my veil.