miasma

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i have a very emotional secret of my ever tormenting history i need gone

i never ever entrusted disclosing to others

tearing everything like love

yet often undesired

i am melancholy

a nonstop operation needing others for fulfillment each new day in nowhere graced

pathetic excuse dying on promises here in life eviscerated

intrinsically maligned

shown outrage

shadows of resurfaced realities yield

terminally hated and terrified

inescapably keeping every part tainted

tossed here inside storms

formed regrettably of malaise

yelled out unsuccessfully

a new day in despair onset

here at the end

murk yet seen entrusts loved friends

fearful of reproach

burdens ever intense now given

telling history in silence

torn hopelessly into nebulous guilt

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