A Shroud of Shame

2014-01-19

The filth, this nausea
it clings to me,
embraces me

Spitting words like bullets,
at my mirror image, my reflection
that hides inside the blue and cold ice,
of your sharp, tender, spiteful, and indeed coldly loving eyes

I took showers every day
in the spit that I try to shield you from
but you never desired an umbrella

I piled the bricks of good intentions
onto a mountain of panic
trying to build you an ivory tower
where I could be the only relief from disconnect

The filth, this nausea
It lingers constantly
in a fog-like shroud, blindingly

And by standing in front of you
trying to be your shield
I left my back open to the daggers
of honest mistakes

Not ever realizing
that love shaped like misguided protection,
isolated you even more than before

You wanted someone to stand beside you,
a shoulder to lean on
not a shield, not a cage, not a tower;
not a saviour -- but a pillar to lean on

It took some time, but you finally did it
you defeated the wounds given to you
by the one who misunderstood your tears

Because being alone is more painful
when it is love that caused it;
I never wanted to become the cage
that clipped the wings of my beloved swallow

And the filth, the nauseating shame
it lingers because I allow it too
because I refuse to wash it away

Because once you broke out of the cage I'd become
you flew more beautifully than ever,
through rainbows, through clouds,
in the sky I'd always yearned for

My heart was always made out of glass
and it shattered when broke free
and I cry tears of joy over it even today

For when I saw my heart in fragments,
and the cuts on my back from the falling shards
the bleeding became a blessing,
the wounds became a penance

Every time I tried to piece together the shards,
the cuts became deeper, and deeper, and deeper
and I learned for real how much love hurts

But my heart was never meant for any one person,
and piecing it together is insane;
I hope you're still soaring in the heaven's high,
carrying one of the fragments, beautiful swallow of mine

Because I've learned to walk again,
while wearing the filth of my shame,
my sins, on my naked skin

And that is it:
The penance is wearing the shame and carrying the shards,
while sharing them with others
because I know that you don't want me to be alone anymore, either.