Music sings out, sobbing in the silence
of a darkened room.
It rises and falls, waves of calm and turmoil,
shared in bursts;
crescendoes of chaos and gentle melodies,
like bridges between tears.
This is where heart-ache resides;
patient and deadly, it waits.
It lurks in crowded corners, along with
all the other sins you make room for.
It makes the music you wish others
could hear, soft murmurs repeating
long into the night.
This is where everything resides.
The dark portions are home to all
your creatures, and all the music
worn strings and sticky keys.
Jealousy and its drumbeats
paired with dishonest notes and
the jagged shadows of your temptations
The room is loud around you, but no one
on the other side of the door can hear
you cry it’s too loud.
They hear a rustle of leaves in a barren night.
I confess I still love you.
I confess I still desire another, and another;
I confess to all these temptations, passions left
sour in my mouth.
I confess to dreaming of you hurt.
I confess to rejecting your body once before,
a one night stand left on pause for days.
I confess to inflicting your words, just like I confess
to feeling bruised and wounded.
I confess to tears, when I see you embrace another.
I confess to tears in the long, cold night; because
I only feel empty at the thought of your name.
I confess to wishing I’d screamed at you, howled
in agony before your eyes as you slipped between my fingers.
I confess to hoping you would admit your scandalous lies,
and confess to knowing you never would be good enough to.
I confess to whispering your name above me,
and being glad I don’t have to bear a response.
I confess to painting your memories in words,
and loving how they float away,
as slippery and fine as silk.
I confess all these things, in your name.