A haunting conscience

Wed, 02/13/2019 - 14:09 -- cessyso

I hope you find no comfort in a home

I hope your guilt is a tormented ghost that roams through your halls.

I hope in mirrors you see her portrait.

I hope your nights are restless and your days filled with worry.

I wish you could see me and shudder at my presence.

Fear my self-worth.

I'm still learning to let go.

But I yearn for you to realize what you so proudly painted.

I fear you find a new muse, another victim to blame.

I hope your brush feels heavy, as you paint a new her.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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