Guilt

Guilt

A fat slab of meat:
The guilt sits on her
Stinking and raw
And feeding off company-
Or prey to flies.

Infected with her lies
Wounds open to the air
She’s bitten dead cells
And chewed off
Her eyes and ears.

But her mind-
It is on the floor, exhausted
From eating her flesh
And she can
Bear herself no more.

This slab is enticing
As it calls for an end;
She takes solace in
The coalition of
Like-minded meats.

So then she eats it all
And there is nothing left
But a room full of flies
That shy away
From her unpleasant corpse.