I lie in bed every night,

The guilt seeps into my dreams,


Someday they'll catch you,

And I'll be waiting,

Gripping smoldering justice,

Like a loaded gun.


I'm eternally conflicted,

Do you really deserve this?

Or is it my own sick brain,

Coming up with excuses?

This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741