I had nothing to confess
first time I met the priest
nor did I have anything to rant about
the next time
except
I was still shaking the crib
that imprisoned me.
Those were the days full of rage
guess nothing really changes
for I still release into the unknown
the torture of childhood
guess that’s the latest thing.
Some label it… I Survived
others hold it inside
don’t matter what you choose
the past is
a disease.
I had nothing to confess
just one question
when does this end?
Strongly written with feeling and the photo is quite stunning! 🌷
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading the depths. 🌻
LikeLiked by 1 person
One could read this many times over and find more. 🌷
LikeLiked by 1 person