Guilt Trip

Don’t feel poetic
But going to ink my nails
The mood was once aesthetic
And now tissues and pails

It’s the guilt in the pounding
Of my heart in my ears
It’s the shame when I am walking
Nervous that you might hear

It’s the glance that I’m shifting
Uneasiness in the air
It’s the footsteps that are shuffling
Are they glances or are they stares

It’s the oaths that I’m taking
The meaning’s disappeared
It’s something I am fighting
Done when it was feared

It’s the shame I’m escaping
Whenever relevance is touched
It’s the voice I’m denying
And keeping it submerged

It’s the lies I’m conjuring
While dwelling far from grey
It’s the smiles that I’m faking
And not living in today

It’s the people I’m avoiding
Fed up with routine
It’s the redundant and the hovering
No changes in the scene

It’s the questions that you’re asking
And keeping me unheard
It’s the wounds that I am tending
While showing how unhurt

It’s ghosts and redeeming
Now against in the ring
It’s the flavours that are dying
And making me a thing

It’s time that should be healing
And not picking at my scabs
It’s the swoops that I am dodging
But still feeling the jabs

It’s the text I’m narrating
While drowning what I’ve heard
It’s a story in the making
While gaming is conferred

It’s the interest that I’m holding
Longer than I can fake
If it’s something that I’m hiding
It’s keeping me awake

Has it gone or become clearer
Don’t tell me and I can’t say
It’s when I see the mirror
And need to look away.