This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TAMU chapter.
What is it like to be ashamed?
I have the answer tied up in a knot
at the back of my throat.
Shame is a present they give you when you are born.
Happy birthday, they say.
You caused your mother so much pain.
Shame is the reflection in the rearview mirror
as you start the long drive home
and try to ignore all the warning signs
you passed on your way there.
Shame is a hand stroking your hair
as you lay in bed under all your mistakes
after you’ve chased everyone else away,
whose touch you lean into as it tells you,
I’m here. I’m here. I’ll always be here.