They were raw and ready to be devoured, hidden in the skin, aching through the bones, pulsing through the soul,
Painfully throbbing at all hours of the day. It made us weak, so we never let it show.
The gap was too wide to bridge. If we had faith we could walk, no fly, across the seas,
But poker faces, drinks that are laced with, Lord knows what, stripped us of our beings.
I'd walk into the booth and tell my sins, if I thought it would have an impact on my end.
But instead I confess my regrets through the tear stained paper and black inked pen.
Father, Father you've made it too easy for us to hide behind a guise,
So we suppress and oppress out of fear. In return for false strength we're left unwise.
We drowned in emotions and gasped for air. How did we think we could stand against the waves?
Now we're left running through the numbing wind. It's funny to think we once thought we were brave.
I prefer beaches that are rocky, with waves that clash and fog that hides the horizon,
Where the sun doesn't shine, but the rain does fall because the darkness is much easier to hide in.
I'd walk into the booth and tell my sins, if I thought someone would listen to my pleas.
I'd wear my insecurities on my wrist if I wasn't afraid of what I'd see.
I think my soul would suffer if I let my bones turn to ash
Before I had the chance to reconcile with my inner self and with my past.
The art of confessing is best expressed through the art that one adores.
Between the lines you can find what a soul won't confess, and much more.
Raw emotions, hidden flaws, quiet thoughts, running free
Only when we devour what once pained us to believe.
How much longer can indifference conceal the inner wreck?
The ships clashed onto the rocks, when the fog and fear met.
And I swear, I'd walk into the booth and confess all my sins,
Only, and only if, I had any idea where to begin.
