Confession

Alternate Confessions

To answer Wordpress's prompt of the day, my two favorite things to wear are my blue shorts and...probably my kermit shirt.

I got it from an old college roommate my first year, and I've worn it ever since. It's so soft! Plus Kermit is telling me I'm awesome on the awesomeness meter, how can I not love that? The cuddliest confidence booster ever. It's this lime green kinda color, lighter than neon, but not quite forest deep. The fibers are stretched out, hanging loose on my tummy, though it does hug my boobs something fierce, making the damn things look like floppy jello bowls. I ain't even that big! I'm flatter than a smatter of pattered pistachios parceled proportionately in pickled passion fruit parfaits.

These old shorts of mine I've had forever. Prolly since oh...fifth grade maybe before-so I woulda been about eleven-ish for those outside the US. I don't remember how I got 'em'. All I know is they're full of holes and I ain't letting 'em go until they literally fall apart on my body. They have my butt grooves implanted in em'! They've seen me sob and I've told my secrets to them'. Can't go letting go of a best friend like that.

Which is how I ended up thinking. Dangerous thing, me thinking. Never know where it'll put me.

I love Confession, it's gotta lotta memories. But it ain't the best story it could be. There's so many more questions I have about them both. The things they've done and been through. So, like my other stories, I'm making a side story after telling. Full of ideas and thoughts as they come.

I hope y'all enjoy. I'll try to keep it as consistent as my other works. That is to say, whatever my heart feels like telling me whenever it's ready. I shall finish another story someday!! SOMEDAY!

Thank y'all for coming with me on this journey, your support really does mean the world.

When your beloved aches...it becomes yer obsession.

Matters little be it wrought by bodily agony or their minds wracked by guilt sorrow, hatred, or aught sundry ill devotion. Yer emotions surge-coursing, consuming your veins. Nothing's sane, same, or tamed. All remains an effervescent dream. You break because they are breaking. Their tears conflate your rage. You stop thinking, feeling, seeking pleasure-unwilling to engage. All you see is that flame wreaking havoc in your heart's safest place.

Some folks spend their hours devoted to comfort. They waive their wages to merchants, enchanting away the sorrows. Many simply listen, holding close they who hold their souls half. Folks like me?

Kilkenny...we'll eradicate their pain. We'll ignore their wishes if it means keeping them safe...

Nay...though winds wail, nary assail mine loathsome portends! Harried to tell thy frail, seeping, pale countenance-my lips wantonly trail their gales, undeterred by godly grievance!

Ere it so their heart is plagued by meddlesome memories? Should sight o a person make them ill? Ne'er again be they seen. Better ta deal vengeance than witness justice deterred! See a light snuffed and shattered.

The notions of delicate brickwork versus svelte swords masonry. Ack, I've never been one for smooth talking. S'not much use in being obtuse when your point better plain stated be. I mean ta say that my way is one of battering down aught my path protest.

Memories be enemies, mine Kilkenny sweet. E'er feckless, goading dreams. Grift yer heart in saturnine visages-their images never reminisce. Ye'll keep yer grave sane. Incipient.

Heaven's pity they who shake a lover's faith. Gods help they who destroy a child before their mother's face.

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