A Thousand Words

The worst thing I do is blame others for my faults.

I can’t seem to muster up the courage

to admit that I don’t have to be perfect.

So I bow my head down in shame,

hollow from the inside but a thousand words on the surface.

I may not say them all,

but they plague me in a way that becomes a part of my shape.

This misconduct gets so jumbled up that now when I look in the mirror,

I see abstract shapes but can’t figure out

what they meant in the first place.

One day I’ll be free enough to let go and admit that I can make mistakes,

but until then, I’ll be standing in this pool of my own guilt and thoughts,

trying to smile through the hollowness.

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