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Bottled
With each passing day,
every little minor problem peeks itself on top of me,
until I can no longer breathe.
When no one is looking,
my tears boil down,
painting my eyes red.
When people ask, I prefer to keep my own burden, even if it does get heavier.
I don't want to discuss this with people who look for gossip.
I want to tell someone so badly,
My body just can't take it anymore!
But my mouth won't open
and my thoughts won't adjust themselves to words.
I hate holding all these angry thoughts,
because it takes so much energy.
And all I can do to keep from exploding is grinding my teeth,
closing my eyes
and think about a fantasy world
I may never have.
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