Guilt is a horrible thing to own.

It will awaken you in the middle of the night

when amid slumber sleep

you dream of your misdeeds, again.

You reach out to hold the one you promised

to never let die alone.

She awakens you in your sleep

to let you know she is well and urges you to rest.

Guilt is a horrible thing to own

It will shake you at any hour of the day,

when fully engaged in the mundane

or when you finally feel painless for a fleeting moment.

You see a resemblance of the one you loved

walking across the street with umbrella in hand.

She turns at you and smiles

and for a split second you feel reunited with the one you lost.

Guilt is a horrible thing to own.

It is a warm welcome to reckon with what was lost.

It urges you to make peace with those you yearn,

to reconcile with but brush you away.

It rises to throttle your throat, to gasp for air

wanting that imminent breath to cleanse your fears.

You see it as a gift deemed for forgiveness. Redemption.

You pray for those here, now and departed,

to love you for who you are today. You love them regardless.

Kimberly Molyneaux      


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