(Con)fess
Confessions
are convictions,
same sentence
different pronouns.
Some stories entomb
do not endear,
retellings recall
witnesses stand.
Secrets a soul's armor,
bareness bears arrows.
Don't call me brave.
I only open to breathe
my whistle's not whimsy,
holes in my throat.
I become a puzzle
with stolen pieces,
never meeting up.
Why do they always
want what you hate?
The devil I know
you know is enough.
I'm a clumsy idol.
I topple myself
enough already.
How many times do I say out loud
I failed my father
before we all admit
you already knew?
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