Oh, I swear,
I swear I will confess
of all the sins which poison the well
of the crusty diseased soul
I keep locked in a chest
in the most hidden dark path
of my muddled, mediocre mind!

I will confess curled on the ground
of my ungratefullness,
of my laziness,
of the egocentric refusal of
accepting anything but approval,
of the compulsive lies that
my lips and fantasy knit in a sweater
which covers the bare chest
of my uncontrolled rage.
To it all I will confess!

I swear I never asked for it.
I will try my best to assure you
that none of my faults are my fault,
but in the tangled web of lies
where I coddle myself to sleep every night,
I do not know what part of me is real
anymore.
So despite my assurance, I will plea,
don't ever trust me.

Please, I beg you to
inspect me,
inject me,
sedate me,
dissect me,
extract me,
remove me,
destroy me
and cure me.
That or just merely
crush me to bits,
(painfully but sweet)
on the operation table.

I swear I will confess
to the mess in my chest,
and after that
destroy me or rebuild me.
I can't remain this way, believe me!