Confessions Poems - Poems about Confessions

hold the rope tight, never let go of a safe hand the journey ahead is far too brutal to make sense what once seemed fated, shall shatter one's hopes the idea of love was born from a poet's thought lover's rose from the ashes to finish their lovelorn stories heart wrapped in barbed wire yet still beating- for the one who...

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First, remove the eyelids— they hold too much fiberglass. Grind streetlight into gunpowder, cut it with gravel—snort the cocaine dusk. Take the sidewalk like heretic communion, metal-flake wine, asphalt host. She blinks razors. Stars break in her clavicle. You don’t touch her—you calibrate. Banana fingers, bruised and humming, plucking vapor off the fencepost. Storm-laced teeth. Voice as hinge, breath as cordless vacuum throat tightrope over a cheap motel dirty...

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as the rosemary rain soaks pensive petals, leaving an aroma of lovers’ betrayal the succulent scent of his petrichor skin caresses the midnight crevices of this meticulous mind, urging my soul to purge tears and ink long mimicked by April’s sunlit rays synchronizing a symphony of robins a rhapsody...

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I crafted words at midnight, perfect in their form, Emotions spilled like rainfall before the coming storm. My fingers hovered trembling above the final key, These truths too raw, too honest for you to ever see. I saved them in the shadows where courage goes to hide, Each sentence held my heartbeat, each comma held my pride. The things I longed...

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A Photosynthesis of Conversion David J Walker The tender plants bow under the Sun and dance to the voices of Indecisive winds in A compliance of survival Confessions of sins of omission And confusion of missions Pay for admission to the Summer Social And when called upon Singing the sacrament of Dissonance in words that They can and cannot remember...

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The bottle pours too fast, gold-green streaks darkening the wood. It smells like something honest, I wipe it clean before anyone notices. ...

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Why mi heart would seh yes, When de world might cry no? De fire inside mi chest Burn hotter dan volcano glow. Mi queen, mi gyal, mi free bird, fly high— Ah see yuh in yuh glory, nuh chain could tie. Yuh skin glisten, de moonlight kissin' De...

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I poison myself to endure the torments of my clairvoyant mind, A journey littered with catastrophes and irreversible scars. I chase nightmares I will find in hell, My face drowned in the fleeting vanities humanity sanctifies. I am in no rush to honor my appointment with the reaper, Like a terminally ill patient who still dares to dream. I am trapped...

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My spirit is forlorn, frightened, and impaired. You’re not hiding here in this hideous hell; no longer your eyes, are broken in a cataract cell, instead, you graze in the free fields, feeding on the flock’s frivolous phrases, now part of a buoyant herd, while I wallow in the ocean's pitiful past, gliding in my hurricane of pain. You wander merrily...

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I am a thread unraveling, A song fading in the wind. A paper boat on an endless sea, Folding under waves I can’t control. I am vulnerable, Glass stretched thin, Waiting for the shatter. I break More often than I dare to admit. I break in silence, Behind closed doors, Where tears carve rivers Through the deserts of my resolve. Regrets hang like unfinished paintings, Muted colors of choices...

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I remember Cupid’s scent when December stars sailed, above vast seas of scars rippling with past mistakes, awaiting the euphonious moon to croon and tune melodies veiled. But will the skies in blues be the muse, casting dews of jasmine bright? For when shadows rise, darkness looms and...

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If I can be honest I must cranberry confess I really don’t want it No longer need your sex I don’t mean you Are invaluable to me Just mean I don’t want All that huffing and puffing I giggle sometimes At myself for lemon lime Is the taste of the sexless And it is still good to eat Between the sheets of...

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It hurts to see you hurt; it breaks me to see you hurt because of me. I don’t like what’s going on, but how can I possibly stop it? I am not perfect, not good enough for you, but I am trying. I want what’s best for you, but what I had in mind is not...

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After the debate, Joe didn’t feel great He realized he’d better not tempt fate I quit the race, he said Then he scratched his old head Jill will replace me, she hardly can wait ...

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Notes app poetry Easy to write at 3 AM in bed With a bowl of Cheetos balancing on my stomach Notes app poetry Harder to convey And say Your juvenile heartbreak In a way that lets others respect Your words and your rhymes Notes app poetry Fun to write But never fun to publish Do you want people...

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