Room for Confession

I know these walls, like I know the brown pigment in my skin
If these walls could talk, they'd say they know me better than I know myself though
These walls mirror the truth behind the thoughts in my head
Our relationship is intimate, private
Like the lips between my legs
These corners hide secrets, old stories from the past
Like a blanket, these walls covered me and gave something to clinch to
I've always felt safe HERE
Apartment 5, 1st floor...I wrote my first stories here
Stayed up late, reflecting my life along with patterns made by shades in the moonlight
I had the best bedroom in the world, as long as I had it Alone
When the sun went down and my father left for work
It didn't matter if me and my mother didn't get along
'Cause she was seperated in the bedroom, mattress set for a queen
I Lived in my Living Room, it's as simple as that
All the conversations I had alone or the talks I had with God
I discovered faith in that room, and erased fear
A loveseat for making love, even though I preferred the couch
My boyfriend and I would watch ourselves in the stained glass mirrors
A room full of furniture to muffle the sounds of my screams
The walls soaked up the energy I exerted
And in return, gave me a space I could practice in
Practice...
Years of homework, studying for SAT's, the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd drafts of my essays
I've always put my feelings in my poetry, but not as much as I put them in that room
A living room to live in
That room reflected heaven and hell
With spirits coming in and out
Hard wood floors suffered as much traffic as train tracks
Somebody was always moving in my house
The only time I remember it being quiet was...Never
But soon the sound of air will take its place back in that lonely apartment
And it's hard to imagine, not having those grease-stained walls to watch me
Cracks in the ceilings, more like eyes to catch another episode of my reality show
I'm not ready to undress the walls of it's pictures and artificial plant settings
I know I'm lonely, but I can only imagine how these walls are gonna feel

Comments

jwiener

A safe, comfortable place where we can write poetry is almost as important as the poetry itself. I'm sure wherever you are, you will seek out a place to feel connected to your writing.

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741