Bottled Bruises

I’d bottle the bad and toss it out to sea if it meant that through my eyes, all that can be seen is shaded with the freedom of interpretation.

Actions wouldn’t be the feigned responsibility of reciprocity but the intentionally unconditional offer of first fruits and selfless grandeur.

I would wake up daily. I would see what is to be seen and I would stop drifting casually and aimlessly. I’ve stopped waiting for life to happen as my life is a daily choice and open expectation. I expect responsibility for my choices.

These old scars are being packed in a glass bottle and I’ll cork it up and wax it down and live out what I breathe in. I will be what I am being.

I get what it means to see that I am.

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