Salting my wounds

Photo by Castorly Stock on Pexels.com

I grab a handful of salt
rubbing it into the wounds of my mistakes,
berating myself for thinking things I mustn’t
and wanting things I shouldn’t.

The sting takes over my senses as I spiral into self-loathing,
wishing I was a better person than this.
As I pour on the negative thoughts,
the pain burns me up.
Seeping from the hidden sins in my mind,
my moral failings start to blind my sight.
I add extra salt as I think of all the people in my life
who deserve better.
It scorches like a half-truth.

I take out another handful from a jar called perfection.
Throwing more onto my mistakes,
I salt the wounds of my own humanity.

31 thoughts on “Salting my wounds

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