The Birth and Youth of Bitterness

the moment
in which u gather
the courage to reach out
no one s there

the pain, is at times still
like a pond, of rotting, smelling, putrid water
at times it quivers, burns, dances and overwhelmes

sometimes i cant bear it
not another minute
this unbearableness
this knowledge
this burden
this pressure

to hold it all in
to know i have to spare them
to be nice
to every hand, with knives still dripping blood
to remember, they have no clue
what they are doing, how it hurts
the burning desire
for the freedom
of once ... just once, just letting it rip
letting go

the burden
of consoling u
for ur sorrow
in ur gentle, careful nurture
of my seed
from sapling, to bonsai, to cruelly, bitter poison weed

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