Flaying Façades

Prose Poetry

Unburdening a menagerie of ghosts exorcised my fragile, fumbling heart. I had told you of jet-black thoughts through intimate chronicles, and discombobulated perceptions ripped beyond the basal of my breasts.

I wrote of human conditioning and sensitive memories. I sang out my raw truth and miserable mistakes. Melancholic emotions were siphoned through to shape psalms into palms.

I wrote of buried contemplations of the deflations I hugged, as I weighed myself against others, who shone brighter, louder, luckier, and prouder

Insignificance wrapped tightly to my not—enoughness, ignited by the deceptive tongue of a ragged cacodemon.

Forever, as I flay these façades and bare a burning soul, I see beyond to a new door, for which lays behind open land, a void, appearing arid as a deserted ground.

My past—dug up—excavated, as I champion my awesomeness and authenticity back. Is this a true part of me, someone I should know? Should I instinctively love her despite only meeting her once, a lifetime ago?

I hunted hard for this part of me to love, to hold, with a welcoming hug. An authentic gem, my core and essence, which I hunted down with vigorous zest. The gouging out of antiquated and twisted hierarchical abuse.

In her cultivated place, I learn to rebuild new structures, a true home, a future, and strong, beautiful bones.

______

Many of us are searching for our authentic selves, but is that a place, or is it character and soul, where we are finally able to meet our values and boundaries? It doesn’t always mean that once we have unravelled our past and acknowledged our truth, we should feel we’ve arrived at happiness.

Excavating our past through healing has to slow down at some point in the journey, as we continually move forward in life: the Earth, our time, and our lives steer ahead, and won’t wait for us for too long.

That new place beyond that translucent door of healing may appear as barren land, yet this is the new paradigm of fertile ground. It’s a place to plant seeds of action and bravery, and of love. A place to explore and knock hard on doors. We can rebuild hope, and we can rebuild our lives. It’s not easy, and we have to feel safe. But we can do it!

Thank you, God

© Chantal Weiss 2026. All Rights Reserved