Bottled

Bottled

Where could I start?
Where oh where could I let these butterflies go?
You might not even listen
Or understand how much it means
She’s a symbol to me
Of more than herself, of course
She means to me what it means to breathe
To live
Be alive in a place that everyone else can only dream of being alive
And in those moments I thought nothing at all for all the things I told her
Her absolutely unmatched allure
Right down to the way she walked and dressed
I wouldn’t say she’s like power,
No,
I’d say she is a power
A force of nature, taken to flesh
Borne of dark dreams and sent to me
For a purpose I’ll never know, now
But something that toys with my sullied mind as every moment ceases to be
Every moment with hand in hand was a connection to everything
She was the conduit for unreality for me
It never escaped me, that thought
I knew very well that she possessed something I’d never again see
That force of hers, she wielded it deftly
Over me, and the others before me
They all fell to her, but in the end she relented to me
And me alone
She trusted me with that say over her power
In her eyes, she must have felt bottled like lightning
But to me, I wasn’t the one who bottled her, no, I was simply a vessel to capture that
And I had a hold of that force of nature for months
When I misused that wondrous, awe-inspiring lightstorm, it lashed back at me and scarred me for eternity

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