marinated shames

Shame. Something that can stem right from a silent fart in your work kiosk to a rude slap in your face that life serves you often. But mostly shame is a far more personal feeling, a feeling of being stripped and being gazed at all your flaws. If I could smell shame how would it smell?Perhaps a pungant stench of a dead fish, the first stale breath of your mouth when you wake up, or like peeled onions that have become a day old. I have imagined many a times how shame would smell like? How perhaps it would taste? If I added some freshly plucked mint and sautayed it in olive oil would shame taste and smell different? I could never trick myself into believing that I am not shamed I am just feeling vulnerable, a momentary helplesness. It always existed inharmoniously with my feeling of well being.
At times I would secretly wish (write with crayons in my insipid brain) that I could marinate my shame in a gorgeous dressing without having to deal with it. !! But hindsight my ego said DEAL WITH IT!!!