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#ladylizz
lacunasbalustrade · 1 year
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the bottles are coming back,
and now I unseal every cork with a 'pop',
recalling the days that I sat down to write,
recalling how I bled my heart out over my keyboard;
recalling how tears ran down my cheeks in the 5 a.m. silence within my locked 5 square room,
recalling how much of my heart I thought had gone unseen,
and I unfold these letters in their glass bottles,
unfold them and caress them thumb by finger,
bawl again like a baby.
the bottles came back to me
when I thought they never would
when I thought that there was no one who read them and cared enough to come back
they have been holding my heart gently within their palms
all
this
time.
and how do I say this? how do I say that there is this overwhelming stabbing pain in my chest because someone opened my bottles.
someone pried out the cork.
someone came back to my little bottle and picked it up, someone brought it home to use as a centerpiece,
someone put flowers in with my words and watched them grow,
or they simply drank up the sorrow that I bled for someone to hear in their darkest hour.
my bottles came back.
how can I ever thank you?
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