guilt.

guilt.

grayscale photography of man sitting beside wall

“I am, Ruins” 7.18.18

can you forgive me?
can I forgive myself?

NO.

the guilt
like a captor
a cage
becomes familiar
a house
with common walls
closing in
circling
blinds the view
no windows
no doors
huddled in the corner
struggling against the bindings of my guilt
under the weight of stone
tattered clothing
barely covers
broken form
cold wood boards
floor creaking
talking
reminding

the key-
to forgive
out of reach
beyond my sight
I can not see,
my mouth, my mouth pantomimes
Help… Help… Help…
(and softer…)
…help –
until a whisper
then just a murmur
quakes across trembled lip
quivers
-help
a single tear forms
and draws
like a blade that strikes out against the world
(help)… (help)… help me, please… please…

 


No cute notes or music on this one.. I think I will let it stand for itself. -dmk

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