There once was a bottle, fine as can be.
"Full me up with tears", the bottle said to me.
"I'll take your pain
Your hurt
And you rage
I'll take it all
You will never feel again"
"And in return?" I asked, the question full of doubt
Why would this bottle want nothing but to help?
"In return", the bottle reply,
"When the bottle breaks I'll come for what's mine."
The deal seemed great at the time
With no more hate I'll be alright
I won't feel the way I felt.
So I told the bottle, "I'll take your help"
Years had passed
I had grown
The bottle full, no room to hold.
Over the years I filled it up
Feeling nothing felt like hell.
Then one day I let it out, told myself I needed help
But the bottle broke before my eyes
My screams sailed out into the night.
A mist of smoke before my eyes
A demon came from deep inside.
"What are you", I questioned it.
"I am the bottle, at least a piece of it."
"Why have you come?" I said to it.
It smiled at me and made me sick.
"The time has come to take my gift, the bottle in return for the soul who owes it. Your time as come, the bottle broke now I will take what's left of your soul."
A snap of his finger and I was gone, trapped inside like the emotions I wanted gone.
Moral : but keeping your emotions bottled you are becoming a prisoner inside yourself.
