Emptying Sad Bottles

I’m not sad anymore.

I’m not angry, or happy or any of those other things you call them. I’ve successfully managed to fold every feeling neatly into one suitcase. Now, it’s just one large load that weighs down on me but it doesn’t kill me, not really.

Ever feel empty?

I have, sometimes months at a time. I’m scared of going back there, I try not to but often it creeps up on me and it takes so much from me that walking, or talking becomes a heavy-duty chore that I do not want to engage in. I don’t want to communicate with the universe because ill have to open the suitcase and what if somethings fly away? What will I do with all the space? what if there is no more room for the new things and I have to let go of something?


I have betrayed my past…

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