Midnight Confessions

I pour the blood

from my heart


This ink

This lead

These pixels


Resurrected in

the empty church

of my life


Briefly seen,

my life imagined

as I once saw it



the feelings

of my flesh,

the senses of

my being


I kneel

in the empty, fragrant



The small wooden window

that leads to where I toss my sins

like wedding rice

never opens


I say them

all the same


They pile

like decaying petals

at my feet




radiant with putrescence


They smell of illicit love

drunken torture

anger and loneliness

rage and despair


I press them to my heart

to stop the bleeding

absolving myself

resolving never to do

these things again



And so the risen sun

forgives me


But I have chosen death.

Author: smithaw50

I live in NJ. Concentrating now on a getting a full time writing career started. Glad you could be with me on the journey. Ready? Here we go...

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