Resentment in Glass

By Abhi Gupta

I am a bottle, strong and clear, Crafted tough, to hold my fear. Anger, hurt, and all my grief, Stored inside, beyond belief. Each word you speak, each silent pause, I seal them in, no cause to pause. A vessel formed to hold them tight, Resistant to the sharpest bite. But glass, no matter how it's made, Can’t hold forever, can’t evade. The pressure builds, the cracks will show, Even when I don’t let go. I hold it in, and watch it grow, A storm I dare not let you know. For in the moment I release, It’s not just me who feels the peace. The bottle breaks, the shards fly wide, In jagged pieces, pain’s divided. Though I am freed, it scatters all, Hurting those I care for most of all. A messy release, a fleeting gain, But in its wake, the hurt remains. How do I heal, how do I mend, When breaking free causes hearts to bend?

By Abhi Gupta