Confession

A prayer for the damned and the devoted

Image by Fran Tobi Nagashi.

Father forgive me,
For I have sinned. 
I’m eight-years-old.
This is my first confession.

Full of sugar and spice 
And everything nice.
What reckless lapse in judgment in these tender years 
Must warrant such deep repentance?

Coloring outside the lines. 
And stealing third base.
Egregious acts deserving of punishment 
Both cruel and unusual.

Brand me a sinner and find me at fault 
For failing to consider the consequences of such benign actions.
Now left with a blackened soul 
Bearing the mark of deficiency.

Father forgive me,
For I have sinned.
Fifty years have passed.
My transgressions are many.

My view of others having been shaped 
By the jarring judgment cast upon me in my youth.
I now see others using the same harshness 
With which I was seen. 

Settle in as I speak of dark dreams 
And broken promises.
Tales of turning the left cheek only for the other 
To be slapped by a closed fist.

You promised to be mine and I to be yours 
All the days of our lives and thereafter.
Instead, you poured yourself into another 
As you cast me aside like a soiled cloth.

You denied the truth when 
Confronted with your cascade of lies.
You tried to manufacture a false reality 
To appease me and you failed.

I see you for who you are. 
You are my supposed soulmate 
Who tormented me 
By withholding your love.

Retribution is mine.
But I will not torture you as you did me.
Instead, I will teach you 
With the care and love you deserve.

Drink the sweet poison 
As you sip the soup 
Concocted to nourish your body 
And nurse your ailments.

Dream of the new day you will greet 
With clear eyes and a cleansed pallet. 
Renewed in the knowledge 
Of a new beginning. 

Close your eyes 
And trust you will wake to see the next day.
A risky gamble and dangerous hope 
Based on faith made of fool’s gold.

Drift off 
To everlasting sleep. 
Our paths shall cross anew 
In the next life.

Father forgive me,
For I have sinned. 
I took the life of the one
Who ruined mine. 

But who is to judge those burned 
By the fire of a mate 
Who vowed to give 
Exclusive and unending love?

For all is fair 
When war is waged 
On the heart of a fool promised 
A tomorrow that never comes.

You vowed to love and honor me 
For an eternity.
Know that I cannot be escaped, 
Even in death.

© Linda Kowalchek 2025

Thank you for reading Linda’s confessions.

Seven Sins is Black Coffee Poetry’s forthcoming collection of poetry, SOC, experimental writing, and creative fiction/nonfiction.

Lust. Gluttony. Greed. Sloth. Wrath. Envy. Vanity.

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