deepundergroundpoetry.com
Inner Confessions
(For the Confession Secrets and Lies Comp)
My Confession...
In.. the still of me
is a place....that lays in wait
always hungry...ready to taste
the distinct flavor of my misery...
dripping down from inside the inner me
languidly lapping at the acidic core
of my mutilated memories...
Now I realize my thoughts have been my enemy
As I lay prostate upon the brittle ground of my
unforgiving heart....begging the Fury's to not
lay claim...or waste to my base emotions...
as spider like secrets spill from the open wounds
Caused by my own internal neglect whispering
My darkest deeds as they feed....and feed...
on my guilt
Reminding me of the lies....not told to others,
but to myself as now my flesh betrays my burdens
as a sour pit of regret boils in my entrails causing
ulcers,and anxiety to cause fissures and cracks in my
mental playing field...yet I can not call foul
as I have yet to make peace with my spiritual referee
As the demons from my past jeer at me from the sidelines
sending more pain into my wounded being ....
I ask for a reprieve .... perhaps just a moment to catch my breathe
As I am barraged with venomous arrows of deceit.... Alas
I realize for me there will be no reprieve...
As all my darkest sins now crowd me....I call them all by name
I feel defeated somehow made smaller by my past,as I mentally
forfeit my game.
My Confession...
In.. the still of me
is a place....that lays in wait
always hungry...ready to taste
the distinct flavor of my misery...
dripping down from inside the inner me
languidly lapping at the acidic core
of my mutilated memories...
Now I realize my thoughts have been my enemy
As I lay prostate upon the brittle ground of my
unforgiving heart....begging the Fury's to not
lay claim...or waste to my base emotions...
as spider like secrets spill from the open wounds
Caused by my own internal neglect whispering
My darkest deeds as they feed....and feed...
on my guilt
Reminding me of the lies....not told to others,
but to myself as now my flesh betrays my burdens
as a sour pit of regret boils in my entrails causing
ulcers,and anxiety to cause fissures and cracks in my
mental playing field...yet I can not call foul
as I have yet to make peace with my spiritual referee
As the demons from my past jeer at me from the sidelines
sending more pain into my wounded being ....
I ask for a reprieve .... perhaps just a moment to catch my breathe
As I am barraged with venomous arrows of deceit.... Alas
I realize for me there will be no reprieve...
As all my darkest sins now crowd me....I call them all by name
I feel defeated somehow made smaller by my past,as I mentally
forfeit my game.
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