i find myself in revelation,
that i'm the embodiment of guilt.
my bones droop like trees soaked from an infinite rainstorm,
my eyes dart down, taken by the need to never meet theirs.
i am guilt.
i am ridden with such an awful stench, the like of spoiled milk in carpet threads,
steeping in the foundation-
certainly not aged like wine.
i know i've done things i never could have imagined-
but somehow i'm ripping up the carpet in the name of renovation.
replacing fear with warmth,
replacing lies with wide windows,
replacing such bad habits with statuesque pillars that keep this home steady.
for years i've read my name as coward.
for years i've had a thread pulling my arms back and contorting my lips.
but today i reflect and see a frightened child, fumbling for any footing she could grapple.
today i saw my partner watch my eyes gleam,
and witnessed the thread turn golden.
and i'm everything good,
because i chose to be.
i'm everything good, because the rain has paused and the shutters have stopped shaking.
i'm everything good-
because i am guiltless,
as free as they come.
YOU ARE READING
speak softly
Poetryyou speak until your breath gives out, and the shallow huffs of words they never heard beg to be buried; but live on in the sidewalks. - - - prose/poetry
