I am a water bottle
How things change and no one knows
I guess I’ve always been a water bottle
A clear plastic bottle, no label no straw no design
Just a plain water bottle
I started my life filled with just that. Fresh water
From a spring that’s been filtered and cleaned
But I grew in life, I opened up, collected things, small bits that I could hold
I poured out a little water to hold some cordial because I’m sweet,
A space for the vitamin tablets because I have health
A touch of oil and grease from the food I enjoy coming off my lips
and whenever my bottle ran low I topped it up, with the water in the spring flowing from my heart
But I was always still fresh water that was put there by love
Clean maybe not but still drinkable
Still enjoyable and something you’d be happy to sip from. something you needed
But you changed that
You poured out so much,
And you filled it with brine
You changed my manageable sweet taste
For something completely unstomachable
You never emptied me but you took enough
Enough that the salt you added is the strongest flavour
To the point I am no longer sweet
I no longer hold my heath in me
Nor the flavours I remember
Not the love I filled myself with
And now it hurts to drink
My lips crack and bleed when I drink and I add a bit of hatred with each drop of blood that mingles
Or a shot of pain for each tear that finds its way in
And I know I could empty out my bottle
And completely start again
Fresh water from a tap,
More cordial from the bottle,
More vitamins from my tablets
More oil from my lips
But I’d never be the same
Because the brine you poured was too concentrated
It makes me want to punch a hole in the bottom and let everything drain out
But then I’d never fill up to the top again
I’d never be fulfilled completely
I’d be empty,
No cordial nor vitamins nor oil would ever grace me again
But I am a bottle and with enough water one day the salt will be gone
The tears will be memory
And the blood will wash out
One day
I’ll be fresh water again
And I’ll never let anyone near my bottle again
About the Creator
Bevan Tse-stuart
coping with depression. Mostly just me venting but any love is appreciated

Comments (1)
This is a powerful metaphor. I've had similar experiences where something good turned bad. It's tough to let go of the past, but sometimes it's the only way to move forward.