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Confessions
December 27, 2025
The thunder rumbles,
Worms under my skin,
Fire drowning in my throat
I thought I had,
A tomorrow to tell
Open the can of holes
Full of me
A coal, a pen, a block of ice,
An empty frame.
How can you resist?
I have lied enough,
A patchwork of single stories,
This is who I am,
I am, I am,
I must be.
The thunder, wiped off,
The can, an hollow gift.
I can't tell
I can only......
A single drop and I am
GONE
Contain it
Don't let it loose
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Nirjhara enjoys penning confessional poetry immensely and would like to explore it more in the future.