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Poetry — Shame is a word that chokes out sunlight and I am done with it forever
Shame is a round word. It fills my mouth with cotton, choking me.
I weep.
For my words are held back.
Shame is containment of self, a prison of strangling vines I spilled water on during my darkest days, helping them grow even though I didn’t mean to. Shame is sadness and anger with nowhere to go. It just builds up like ivy crawling up a wall, suffocating the sunlight and closing up the windows of a little stone house. Screams rattle the floorboards, frustration pounds against the doors, and hurt grows like mold in the dark damp corners that haven’t seen light or gentleness for many a year.
Yet forgiveness is soft hands yanking the leaves away, letting sunlight cleanse the windows. They burst open and fresh air swirls in while laughter bubbles like a brook in the overgrown flower garden. The wind brings the melody of chimes into the house which shudders in liberation, having grown unused to music over the years. Everything is covered in soft velvet soundscapes.
Is it safe to open?
Is it safe to hope?
Yes love, hope holds a flame to shame and burns down the vines, releasing everything.
Even the sad feelings.
Even the anger.
They need to have somewhere to go so they don’t fester any more. Be free of their toxic weight and rejoice in the levity of clouds.
For the sun will continue to shine on you, my dear, and remind you of the light we all carry within that can’t be extinguished.
