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.

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