Mamsur abubakar

Here’s a poem for joyful shame It stains my skin, this burning glow, A mark I wear, though none must know. Sweet is the ache, sharp is the blade, A guilt that dances, unafraid. Laughter hides behind my tears, A secret song the silence hears. I shudder, thrilled by what I claim, Bound and free in joyful shame. I clutch the fire, let it sear, A trembling hymn, both bright and near. For in this weight, I am alive, Ashamed, yet yearning to survive. How does that feel to you?