A budding writer's collection

Bottle

You broke my bottle today.

You did it to show.

Make me see, and make me shrink,

You thought that the light of hope,

The one that fuels my rebellion,

You thought you blew it off.

Deliberately, slowly,

All while taking in my broken state,

You smashed it.

A creature you are so malevolent,

Hell would feel like paradise to you.

I dream someday that there's some retribution,

Walking on your line of fate,

Tugging on it till it extinguishes your flame,

As tortuously as you extinguish mine.

But there's a rational side of me,

Yes, it exists, despite your best efforts

To reduce me into a babbling, vengeful wreckage.

It speaks in tongues,

Of moral superiority of my being,

And not stooping low and losing my ground.

So, I hope and I pray,

That you come by a mirror,

That rejects all your false projections,

And forces the truth upon you,

Just as harsh as tug on my leash,

Holding it tightly gripped.