I wish I were a poet
instead of simply
a confessionalist
I wish I could lace this shit up
in metaphors
pretty enough
to swallow
deep enough
to choke on
instead of a daily gut spill
of words crawlin out
slick with blood
and whispered prayers
that I don’t believe in
I wish I could be clean lines
controlled breaks
blank spaces that breathe
instead of these pages torn raw
cluttered with my noise
my stutterin thoughts
and the taste of regret
still hot in my mouth
I wish I could write bout stars
without rememberin
hospital ceilin tiles
write bout oceans
without rememberin
how close I came
write bout you
without sayin
I need you more than I admit
I wish I could be a poet
not this
not these confessions
I keep chokin up
not this ache
not this wreckage
not this need to write it down
before it bleeds me dry
but I am
just a confessionalist
just a breath
just song
that never made it
past the edge of my lips
dyin on this page
You may not claim to be a poet,but you are.
Bleed, purge and incinerate on the page.
Emotion is the key,you just tapped into yours.
“Confession poetry.”
Love it
Brilliantly penned, Ambjr. You kinda do all the things you think you can’t do my friend. This was an incredible write. Appreciate you.
Damian