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Confessional
May 12, 2024
I am in a very strange place
The praise of the people goes down with the sun
There is no prayer whispered here
One remains concealed, the other naked
Is your sin aspirational or apathetic?
I am in a stranger place
You died for me yet you know nothing of me
I’m obliged to you
You couldn’t have created me for any other reason
I am in the strangest place
I inhaled, I exhaled
Your breath washed over me and my offenses blew away in the wind
But you’ll breeze over another, much sooner than we would expect
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one night i had been thinking about the concept of a confessional in a church and i found it pretty funny, so i decided to write this poem.