Breaking The Bottle. 

(This is just going to be a mix of sentences and thoughts. Emotional. Personal. Just let me put words to it; give it a shape. Let my tongue wrap itself around the words and fill my mouth with bitterness. It is a process, and this is the first step.) 

You are all liars. I am a liar. A cheat. I feel betrayed. This is betrayal. Unhappiness is the worst punishment and I placed myself here. I let myself stay in this yellow box and stare at the line and not take that step out. Why why why why why. What is this misery? So bitter and nothing sweet. I am angry. Red and hot. About to burst. Underneath is just sadness. Oceans of it. Turbulent waves and roars of frustration. Did you know that water can be the most calm and the most violent? Calm outside, and brewing within. Out of sight, out of mind. Don’t talk to me like you care. You simply care about what is going on, that’s all. Stop. I want to say that to you, and to myself. See red. Must it be anger? How about rose tinted glass? Perhaps that is pink instead. Is this how I am to spend this entire year? Avoiding the elephant standing in the middle of the tiny room. No space to roam. No room to breathe. No breath to take. Yes, this is how suffocation feels like. My bones push against my tightened skin and can push no further. Shallow. My skin is getting from bad to worse. Not that it matters. I barely appear anymore. Ghosts don’t care about such things. And I am that ghostly figure in that figment of your imagination. Your guilt, your irresponsibility, your neglect. I am white, not transparent but I might as well be. They are the same, no? Flesh is nothing in this world of blind violence and introspective prejudice. The world is blind, and will stay blind. Wars out and in. Can you still see, or do you just see what you want to? Me? Yes, I am guilty. Always in this box. You know where to find me now. Always found, but lost at the same time. 


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