Sitting Duck Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

In what intention does a lie make the pain stop.
With a heart too drop.
Picking up the pieces of glass before it is even shattered.
Thoughts of why I did this and why it really mattered.
The importance of a horrible stain.
Why won't it come out?
Forever marked by the thoughts of loss.
Accosted by yourself before it becomes a tell all.
Beaten up, as if your were a punching bag.
And it is all a preemptive self infliction to a wound that you might create.
The guilt is the agitation.
The suds run amok.
You become a sitting duck all for something you were too scared to say.
And once you allow yourself to be frozen in such a way.
It's over because fear is the choice you have made.