Just because you corked a bottle So that the water doesn’t leak out Doesn’t mean that the bottle’s empty. Once I realized that I was the same I finally removed the cork And started pouring the hurt out Little by little. – Christina Marando
I used to think that anger was my friend. She kept me warm and safe, at least for a while. But anger needs fuel to keep burning And once I couldn’t provide it, She started using me as kindling. – Christina Marando
Maybe a bruise would have been better Or some other mark, a tangible record of the damage At least then I’d have clearer fragments to sift through. You left me with nothing but brief moments, Sprinkled in the spaces between your kindness, Of covert cruelty, and you said it was all me. So now I’m grasping onto thin strings Desperately trying to weave my story together, But I’m not sure where I end And where…