Guilt

Guilt
Swanky Ali


How does a man wear his guilt?
Does he wake up every morning and
put it on like a pair of spectacles?
Or does it stay on him, does he wear it
like skin
So that it becomes so much a part of
him that he can't tell where he ends
and where it begins
How does a man wear his guilt?
Does it mark his dreams with distaste
while he sleeps
Must he shrug off his blanket because it
gets too warm for him,
Does it burn like a fever
Or does he get up deep in the night, tip
toeing quickly to the closet to retrieve
more covering because he can hardly
bear the way he feels the chill
How does a man wear his guilt?
It is like a suit jacket, to be worn on special occasions?
No doubt he wears it inside out
Flipping it on his shoulders with an
ostentatious flair
Does he smirk at others as they admire
its righteous sheen
Does he whisper and giggle at those
who would rather keep their guilt
hidden
Does he know that hiding it in plain
sight is safest when pointing at those
who remain blind to themselves?
How does a man wear his guilt?
Does he recognize the choice he has to
discard such a thing
Or more rather set it aflame in his
backyard and dance amongst the
ashes, floating around like fair
weathered faeries in the cool, summer
breeze
Does he know that he hasn't destroyed
a thing?
Does he sit by the fire and marvel at
how something that had once made his
spine shiver and quake with the fear of
lasting damage
Now warms his toes and sends shadows
to play with his scars