Bottled Up


Here I sit

Head in my hands

Heart on the table.


It's withered and worn

with every blow it gets worse

I watch it grow and grow

like a hot air balloon

it fills until finally, 

it explodes.


My tears are its blood,

going all oer the 

walls and windows

as if it were a scene

from a scary movie.


I pick them up

putting myself together

and once again

bottling up my emotions.



Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741