Shame is a tree:

Shame is a thirsty tree
roots within ribs
winds branches across bones
places leaves between discs
feeds on words
until silence remains
turns hands into fists
furrows flesh, turns a face
into a mountain
with canyons for the secret tears.

Shame grows in the dark
poisonous when shared
murderous when left alone
I have scissors bought at a flea market
snip snip in the late afternoons
treat the tree as a bonsai
and shape it with will, it is smaller now
grows in places set aside
so the rest of me is free
to decide who I should be.