You need me
this silhouette against your clean white walls,
this convenient darkness
where you hang your fears like coats.
I am the name you whisper
when your own hands tremble
with want you won't confess.
Point your finger.
I wear the black you're too afraid to touch,
walk the corridors you only visit
in the velvet hours before dawn.
You built your virtue
on my villainy,
mortared your goodness
with my willing shadow.
So here I stand,
unapologetic gravity,
the depth that makes
your shallows shine.
I am what you lack
the marrow to become,
the truth you dress
in someone else's skin.
Go ahead.
Make me the monster.
We both know
who needs who.