F*ck Confessions

This isn't a confession

Because if it were

It'd be an angst filled song

And I'd be rich like Lindsey Lohan


Sure these poems,

Something I've never had a thing for writing,

Are filled with angst and hateful lines

But do not call this

A confession


See I have nothing to confess

For I have done nothing wrong

(that you should care about that is)

This is more so

To calm my mind

And give me something to reflect back on


Why do I want to reflect

When all I'll find are

Tear stained pages in a notebook?

Well I was asking myself the same thing

And I've decided

I want to be able to say

(despite what others may claim)

That I was there

That I tried

That I held their hands

With my equally trembling one

That I didn't just give up

That I made it to hell

(now I just have to work my way back)

And I screamed


At the top of my lungs

To all of those

(we all know people like this)

Who dare say I have it easy

To those who think my life is perfect


I work so damn hard

To keep from breaking down

When the times get bad

(and at most cases they are bad)

Because I know I have to be


And I can't let my friends

Give up on life


So don't call this a confession

(to hell with those)

For I have done nothing wrong

(the police agree)

This is simply my way

Of letting out my emotions

Instead of using something sharp

To make the pain go away


Besides, if this were a confess

(which it most certainly isn't)

I would feel lighter writing these words

I feel like I'm drowning.