The Anguish of Shame

I'm feeling bad in an incredibly fixable way All I need is human connection But it's a kind of selfish pain, nothing wrong We could all walk round fixing pains like this for others too embarrassed and ashamed to share they are feeling sad I'm not saying a word to my friends Just writing endless poems But I'm wrapping myself in shame Self pity is some kind of label I've pinned on It invalidates my feelings to wear it My feelings aren't necessarily self pity but I can't see past the shame I'm posting this as perhaps it's common, this feeling unworthy of comfort despite knowing there could be a 100% cure rate The prescription is really simple It's someone putting their arms round you and saying "you are fine to be you in whatever moment you are in and I'm here for you" But that requires pairing with different prescription needs - we can't all be the hugged and tolerated - I'm not sure if I chose that category or it's just where my emptiness lies Imagine sticking a plaster on where a hug was needed It feels bad and you tear the plaster off to reveal no wound, I'm not a fraud - I never said there was a wound for a plaster but now it looks that way and I can't explain my way out because talking makes it worse as the accusation is wrong but the facts suggest I'm lying I'm unheard and stopped talking I've clearly escalated into a locked away feeling here and I'm considering backing away slowly I've knocked on the door and I don't need to open it to know inside are screams of fear, just like a fire I can put the back of my hand to to door to feel it So here I am, both inside and outside the room Starting a poem about being nice to strangers or speaking to friends Where's the middle of the poem? It's about concoctions for comfort and safety... You can't make potions in thin air Trying to contain yourself when sadness thins your skin I know about feeling better I'll get my head round it