For Shame

I've slipped;

A mistake I cannot reverse.

I know it won't help.

But for now, the movement of my hips

Clears my mind.

 

It burns,

The small of my foot dies.

But I keep going.

I keep going.

Focusing on everything but myself.

 

Beads of sweat dripping,

Dripping.

Dripping onto my feet,

They spring to life,

Watered with new intentions.

 

My mind slips back to my shame.

I'll face it when the time comes.

For now, I am born.

I am born a novelty.  

And I love it.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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