*Guilt*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Do not forget to remember the mistaken actions upon which we grieve.

Submitted: November 12, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 12, 2008

A A A

A A A


Imagine

Simple as that, we have nothing left.

A forced impression I’ve gathered,

Reformation for the brutal

*****

I’m a fuck up you see,

No one or anything you’d want to indulge

I type to feel nothing,

I hide to destroy loving.

*****

But is this my idea of fun?

No destination, no trial.

Strung out and on edge,

Filter my madness for me.

I do not want it.

*****

Hold out a hand,

I’ll ignore, damaging myself.

But that’s not the chance,

With ignorance swelling that fat head,

Submerged in guilt,

I quit.


© Copyright 2020 Isis. All rights reserved.

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