Guilt

Something in me rots,

and I carry it everywhere.

Guilt, maybe

or the belief that love was never meant

for someone like me.

You are too kind.

I stand in your light

like a thief who doesn’t belong there.

I call myself evil,

because sometimes it feels true.

the way I fail you

in silence,

the way I never give back

what you pour into me.

I love you.

I love you with a violence

that chokes in my throat,

with a hunger that claws,

with hands that never seem

to hold you right.

I don’t know how to show it.

My body locks, my words collapse,

and I hate myself for it.

I want to build something in front of you,

an altar, a world,

something that says I am grateful,

but all that spills out

is nothing.

Forgive me.

Or don’t.

I will still love you 

until it burns me through,

until there is nothing left

but ash shaped

like your name.