my box of dark secrets

My box of dark secrets

by Ed Fleming

                                  open the box of my heart, but first look

                                    on the outside

                                            y                             g

                                             o                           n

                                             u                          u   

                                                  see? A nice yo

go deeper.

I invite you in,               

because it's finally time

I let my soul out;

peel back the quiet lips

or the mouth that boasts

nonsense,

open the lid of the heart-shaped box,

and first, you'll

the people and

            the music and

                   art I do...

       fun things here and there,

              all my likes and dislikes;

                    but there's another box...

go deeper.

This box is more tender                                            

and fragile, yet a little more precious and decorative —

it's my memories (especially childhood ones) and it's shaped

like my first house;        

inside, all the old toys and trinkets,

the treasure maps and adventures,

the crushes and kisses,

wonder and excitement

the familiar and missed colors,

laughter echoes from every

yellowing page you remove and read

— but somewhere,

tucked in the corner,

you'll find another box,

                           a dirty scratched one

                                                                      purposefully stuffed

                                                                   under some photos;

my stomach turns a little

as you find and pull out the ragged and

                                                                out of place container:

it contains my hard times, and where my nightmares begin —

still, go deeper.

I know that if we must unite and become one, I need you

to unravel me, so go ahead — carefully untie me —

and you'll see more —                                                                      

                                                    a very hard life — pain — remorse,

the things I go through all the time – not simple stuff; yet

there's another box —still another box, well concealed,

almost forgotten, under the floor of the

current box...

holding my breath,

I put my hand on yours as

you try to pull the bottom away;

dear love — I know we were just married

the other day,

but can I totally open myself and show everything?

Yet I know I must, but afterward

you won't want to even look at me,

because in there is me,

                              the me I don't want to see.

A monster fits inside that

tiny box,

all my motives and thoughts

that I often lose control of —

unspeakable things

that I hate so much;

they're my struggles,

                           my sins,

                  my failures,

                          my scars,

         my bad habits,

            my ugliness,

 my dark secrets;

I wonder even now If they

somehow tricked me into

thinking I loved you,

                 but with selfish motivations

            I gave myself to you,

                                      and we're only waiting until the

            evil side of me springs alive,

                        and then we shatter-

                          am I even ready for you?

                  and for our family?

and here I stand on my knees in front of you,

as I try to hide the truth...

but alas....

feel                                                                     

free to...

please...                                                                      

go deeper.

Like loosening my grip

on something I've been clutching all my life,

you finally remove the last layer

that keeps the box hidden,

and underneath is a small black jewel case;

using the hand with the ring on your finger, you open the lid,

I close my eyes,

                thinking of all the shameful things

you will see;

I feel your hand on my shoulder,

                                                                   and I open my eyes

                                    to see you smiling,

a sheet of paper, once

crumpled very small, now

unfolded in your lap—

there's a list of many, many

things written across it, but

then on top of it all —

two great red bars, forming

an X across the entire page—

and the words in red:

completely forgiven

to my surprise, I remember

what Jesus did

                           for me,

he took every single speck on that paper,

and put it on his account,

and paid it all,

even the darkest things

                   are    washed

                                   clean.

You and I know that we

both have these dark secrets,

mistakes—weaknesses,

still clinging to us as we travel,

But the other object

inside that box

is a white cross.

We are being transformed by Him.

I look into your eyes

knowing                   

we

have

a  

     long

   way

to             

                go.

now it's your

turn to open

your box.