I was taught to hate myself,
Despise my very nature.
Every single thing I've ever felt
Tainted by guilt, gruesome, wretched.
The breath which I feel undeserving of
Comes out in shaky exhales.
I wish this guilt was easy to let go of,
Instead it keeps collecting blames.
The pile is growing, crushing my bones,
Destroying my spirit and fueling the storm.
Why can't I just let bygones be bygones?
Have to get back to the place guilt was born.
Guilt
© Copyright: Анастасия Саратовская, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125102406411
Свидетельство о публикации №125102406411
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