Captured.
I try to overspill,
but words only
stay trapped.
The louder I cry,
the more silent I get.
Pain arises,
but there is nowhere to let it go.
Like toxic waste,
it contaminates.
It spreads to the people around, making them sick.
Not physically,
but emotionally sick.
They too,
becoming masked to the pain,
and engaged in the hurt and silence I was once in but unable to detox, remained in bold sorrow.
Pain was only intensified.
I was the flame,
they were the fuel.
We ignited and exploded.
Feelings melted like plastic,
only turning into a permanent, melted coating.
The distress,
the lies,
the hurt,
and the reality that we,
as humans,
never came to realize,
is the truth that;
W E
A R E
O N L Y,
B O T T L E D.
YOU ARE READING
Bottled;
PoetryThis is a poem describing the emotions of being kept in one area in your life being unable to express yourself, and your feelings.
