guilt

Guilt is such a demonic creature- an incorporeal body of black smoke that appears and vanishes as it pleases. It floods my subconscious and occupies my dreams, too often, to remind me that I've hastily shattered the hearts of those who cared about me the most. And that I did not even think twice when I stepped on those shattered pieces as I walked away.

There are simple times, when my mind is busy and my conscience is too occupied for Guilt to seep through. But when my guard is down and I relax the chains, Guilt never fails to creep back in and plague my thoughts. I look at my hands, my eyes skim through each line in my palm and up the length of my fingertips. Hands of destruction. How quickly they dismissed your presence by shutting the door behind me without thought. It was also at that moment when my hands opened the door for guilt, fingers and all; outstretched and welcoming.

And at times, I become obsessive. Replaying in my mind the image of you in meticulous detail, with every syllable and note that had escaped your lips that summer evening. Replaying until I relive that moment, that precise feeling reverberating through my body that now sends aching chills straight to my heart. And that, I guess, is Guilt's arrow striking not to create an easy fatality, but a slow and bittersweet kind of torture.

Yes, Guilt loves to rendezvous with me in my dreams, but that is not where the poison is at its bitterest. It is when I wake up that Guilt stares back at me. Smirking. Laughing. Enjoying the fact that I have succumbed to it's every command yet again. It is a matter of time when it finds its accomplice: Insomnia. When that time comes, they might just be the death of me.

I am yearning to pick up those shattered pieces and put them back together; to shed myself from this guilty conscience. It takes immense courage. And wholehearted selflessness. But I'm afraid that bringing up the past may undo all that time has healed.

And how can I seek forgiveness from you when even I cannot forgive myself?