Dear guilt, you are a cruel slave master.
You whip me.
You thrash me.
You flog me.
You trounce me.
You are ruthless.
You are unbending.
You are merciless.
You are inflexible
You are cold, hard, and distant.
When you appear, you release me not.
You hold me tight in your vice-like clutch.
You squeeze every essence of light joyfulness out of me.
For you have decreed, “there is no respite or joy” for such as I.
I deserve no peace of mind, for I am imperfect.