Bottled Up

Tue, 08/06/2013 - 12:43 -- eck546


Smell of antiseptic

Machines beep, IV bags bubble

Fluorescent lights give no comfort

Plastic gloved hands do not understand

Bottled up tears do not fall

There is no one to see

My dread waking up every day

To see what pain that day holds

I want to give up

I don't want to be here

But I have no choice

To keep living

So I share my pain

With my paper

So that I may learn to forget


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