guilt
The heaviest five-lettered word in the English language. Weighing down, it presses against shoulders, compacting fractured ribs into aching heart. It reddens the face, gnawing away at the mind. Confusing convictions, knowing right from wrong becomes a matter of feeling relief from angst. The only thing that matters is escape to the paradise where peace is found.
If I were a kid who stole cookies from a cookie jar, I don't think I would feel this way (and no, I haven't stolen any cookies recently). If I had told a lie for the sake of a friend, I don't think I would feel like this either. Instead, I feel like I'm the perpetrator of a stabbing crime in which I've mortally wounded another. And though the knife may have pierced their flesh, it is mine in which the blade has been left, twisted and mangled.
Sigh. Maybe I'm just tired and everything is blown out of proportion. But one thing I do know: when I wake up, the guilt will still be there. And I can't keep moving forward until I do all that I can to ease that pain.
If I were a kid who stole cookies from a cookie jar, I don't think I would feel this way (and no, I haven't stolen any cookies recently). If I had told a lie for the sake of a friend, I don't think I would feel like this either. Instead, I feel like I'm the perpetrator of a stabbing crime in which I've mortally wounded another. And though the knife may have pierced their flesh, it is mine in which the blade has been left, twisted and mangled.
Sigh. Maybe I'm just tired and everything is blown out of proportion. But one thing I do know: when I wake up, the guilt will still be there. And I can't keep moving forward until I do all that I can to ease that pain.
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