Dedecus.

My description of feeling shame.

"Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!" 
       -WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Richard II
Ever feel as if a mistake keeps coming back to haunt you? You know that you did wrong, it took you forever to get over it, yet now it comes flying back into your life and all at once your stomach is in your throat; a reel of film, called a memory, is playing over and over again. Escaping is not an option, you are trapped, light will not peak into the cell that is your life. How is it that you can feel so awful so long after the fact? Having been appropriately punished by your peers, all along knowing that they will never be able to replicate the feeling of horror you solely inflict, upon yourself. When will I compile the courage to rebound against the chains encompassing my soul? Slowly I am realizing that the fresh, pink skin I have been seeing is a mirage! (Similar to a woman injected with so much silicone that she is now unrecognizable, but yet, she is the same. She is still the horror that she always found herself to be, after all of the money she spent on surgery. Because despite her appearance, inside she holds the same darkness.) It was in fact a scab waiting to be ripped off, knowing that it, itself was temporary. I now see the truth before my eyes, a gaping wound that never healed! Instead decaying flesh that was ignored, in order to allow myself to ride out the pain before death. Was this phantasm, a kindness to grant me some months of bliss, or was it the most dreadful cruelty of all?! 

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems,