I caught the deep inky blue of it
in bottles
labeled 'pleasing'
and set them on a shelf
next to bowls full of tears
and baskets full of unwanted memories.
It was cold
aching like limbs in the winter
sip it,
let the ice unfurl,
bitter on your tongue,
grief catching
in your throat
before settling into the pit
of your stomach,
like a swallowed apple seed.
one day the winds came
knocking all of the bottles down
and all around in the broken air,
ruptured by the fragmented glass,
screams - starved and rising
screams shattering bone
screams - ringing
wild and ragged
at last.

i have all these strong emotions
they swirl around inside me
i shove them down
and put a cork in the bottle
the bottle that doesn't open
it's easier to ignore the anxiety
than deal with the difficult emotion
but the bottle can't hold anymore
of this feeling
the bottle is shaking and exploding open
the feelings are rushing back at me
i'm holding in the tears
my stomach is churning like
the emotional turmoil
i'm so worried
I can't do this anymore
it's all crashing down on me
the emotions rain down on me
like the glass shards from the bottle
the anxiety shoots through my veins
making my hands tremble
and my heart ache
and my mind spin

They say,
It’s okay to cry
Because
You need to let it
All out.

And when I did,
It wouldn’t stop,
I couldn’t stop,
I had no control
And it burned.

Cloud full of tears
Planting seeds and
Growing thorns
Around my body twisting in knots
I couldn’t untie.

I knew
That being in this house
Was trapping me,
Boxing me up like old toys
Put away, tucked shut.

I felt cornered
With no way out,
No way to escape
All the feelings
Inside me.

I was short of breath,
Close to out of it.
Upset as I was,
I needed to turn it all off
And put an end to it, the agony.

So I took a walk in the rain
At four in the morning
Still dark out
But I had to get out
Of the house.

But finally,
Finally.
I felt release
Through
The fresh air breeze.

They call me no face, the one without a place. My emotions are hidden, there's not so much as a trace.

Blank slate, white face. You'll never know how I feel or even if that laugh was real.

This is not who I choose to be..I use to be a girl with a heart of gold, but now I'm just a ghost and the gold's turned to stone.

My smile stays in place but it doesn't reach my eyes, no matter how hard I try, it's drowned by the tears that I cry.

There's an ache in my chest that reminds me that I'm not the best, and for some reason I can get rid of the thoughts in my head that make me question if I should be alive or dead.

My heart spills to a blade on my hip and my brain with an ink tip.

I am constantly lost somewhere between depression and suicidal rage. Almost if my common sense was locked in a cage, gnawing at the edges of my brain but it's no use, my condition stays the same.

Blank slate, white face. You'll never know how I feel, behind a mask my emotions I do conceal.

I put my thoughts in a bottle
those I don't say
but one day the bottle will be shaken
and it will explode from the pressure
I can't wait for that day

Sometimes I create my own
Writer's block;
It sounds ****** up,
Dozens of us at any given
Moment
Genuinely searching for
Any single word at all,
And here I am,
Wishing my words away,
Creating every writer's
Nightmare
Simply because I'm a
*******
Coward,
Too scared to pick up
My fresh black ballpoint pen
And put it to my
Worn out notebook
Because I'm too
Scared to feel
The dark, painful,
Scary things I know
Will come in the
Free flow of my
Disturbing verses...
So yeah, I'm
That *******,
Creating writer's block
For myself
So I don't have to
Let it all go.

****, that's lame.