Black Bottles of Grief

Still the black bottles of grief are there to collect my tears silently as I cry myself to sleep most nights, some days I cry all day, most days I just smile my sadness away and put on the biggest smile in the world showing to the world that it is well, when really I am just hurting and tearing apart on the inside. I miss my son. I miss the life that I could have had with him. I now find myself talking to the stars and looking for the brightest star in the sky and saying to my sister look there is Sebastian he is flying high. And I often look to the azure to see if there is any hope for me. I know that hope will come back one day as it squeezes itself gently through the cracks in my door, and the walls that I have built up around me.

I am a castle with walls as high as the tallest trees in the world, protecting me from unwanted hope because I am afraid that if I have even the slightest chance of happiness that it will be taken away once more. I built up my walls so that I will not be expecting the unexpected. Except in this life we have to expect the unexpected, because the unexpected does happen.

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