The confection,
Round, hard and red
Is transformed into bitter
Guilt.

The burden,
Translucent and blood-colored,
Rests heavy
Upon my collar bone.

Sticky and thick,
The scarlet goo consumes
What was once obtained
Through secrets and control.

Marrow
Swallowed beneath a river
Of red destruction,
Drowning under shame.

Sitting before a mirror,
Stained with guilt,
Hunched over
Seeking a familiar curve.

Gone,
Hidden beneath
Cherry syrup and tears,
Bone veiled by rubies.

Deep pink lines
Imprint my knees.
My home, a bed of
Cold white tiles.

I stare
Blankly at my reflection.
My face resembling a broken,
Porcelain doll.

French-tip and slightly cracked,
My finger collides with
Familiar flesh,
Combating crimson.

Releasing the scarlet.
Protecting the fragile,
Thin-skinned-covered marrow.
Temporary relief.

My eyes water
Bitter guilt suddenly transformed
Into sweet control.
A blanket of contempt drapes over me