I am a
wooden box.
Dark, and drafty. A place where
people come to tell their secrets. Some come bearing
gossip that in the end will amount to nothing. Some
seek guidance. There was one today who sought to
unburden himself. He came with
heartache and tears and
knelt in me. His soul fell on my
floor.
I am a
priest. I wear
black and I
listen to what people have to say. I give them
penance to do. I make them feel better about themselves. I give them a
someone to turn to when there is no one in the
world.
I am a
confessor.
Everyday there are a thousand and one things I should have done. A
thousand and one ways I didn't live up to
the standard. I am not very
good. I
swear and
fuck and
cheat. I
hate. I'm
lazy and self-absorbed. I suck. I kneel and tell about it all. I try to get better, but every day I fail at
something new. Such are the way of things.
I am a
prayer. An action of
cleansing. A deed to undo all that has gone wrong.
I am
forgiveness. A
warmth. An
invitation to do no further harm to oneself through
guilt.
I am a confessional. These are my
days.