Profane Confession Poem by Ronnell Evans

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Strip away
My armor already
And just frickin’ hit me
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Can’t wait
For you to just
Shut up
And see that
I’m trying
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Maybe hate
Is your
New found love
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Should’ve
Could’ve
Would’ve
So why didn’t you
Frickin’ do it
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It’s time to
Open your eyes
Or not
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I have something
In mind
That you’ll just
Have to find
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‘Cause I’m not
Saying anything
My words are
Worth nothing
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Never right
Just a little
Less Wrong each time
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But in most cases
I’m just a
Little more
Wrong in your head
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A little more
Wrong in their
Heads too
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Screw the fact
That they only hear
The side that matters
Yours
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Screw the fact
That I care
So much
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Excuse the fact
That I get
Sick too
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SCREW the fact
That I
Let you in
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Considering that
I trust no
One else
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With half the
Things I dare
Tell you
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They might as
Well be
Made up
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If I could sport
The world’s greatest
Dress and
Strut across the
World…
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…Then maybe I
Frickin’ would
‘Cause clearly
I’m castrated
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Or maybe just
Aggravated
And frickin’
Annoyed
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Life vacated
Feelings of sympathy
Delocated
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Open and vulnerable
Like date rape
Like I’m
Sedated
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Blood drying up
From the heart
That once
Pulsated
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And jumped in
Anticipation
Of love
Soon stagnated
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It’s not her
Stomach
It’s her heart
That’s impregnated
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Due date
Maybe Tomorrow
When she breaks
The genetic
Code
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Or when she’s
Fixin’ to make
My brain corrode
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You come home and
Lo and behold
I’m so high
I can’t feel
My nose
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‘Cause I’m
Just so cold
And just
So old
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Or frickin’ sick
To my stomach
And ready
To frickin’ explode
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Well…
You wanted
Words and now
They’ve been told
End