I’m afraid to show you my void.

For what if all you have to give me,

is not enough to fill me?

I’d rather keep up my walls,

and be stuck within alone,

then to have your presence near me,

and still be left feeling empty.

There is comfort in my darkness,

and paralyzing fear.

Or at least that’s what the devil continues to whisper in my ear.

For I know my circling thoughts,

will never leave me bare.

Nor will the darkness ever revel the true color of my tears.

How shall I lay down these demons,

without a promised substance for which to replace them?

Or how shall I emerge from these bushes,

when my confidence has been so shaken?