229. Guilt

they smile too easily
and smile too much

they mourn too often
and mourn too little


they shuffle their memories
the few that their bulimic minds have not purged yet
before they go to sleep

they shuffle their memories
they scan them
they scrub the details 
to rid themselves of the brown truth



they stumble by their mornings
with closed eyes

they disguise their past
and disown their future
for the fear 
that someone would notice
the purple bruises on their conscience

I guess it is time
somebody told them

one has not lived 
if one has not known guilt at all

but then
one is no longer living
if all one knows now is guilt