Bitter roast
I taste bitterness like a slow roasting dark chocolate. The density of a deep sulking milky white, stuns the senses. Slipping throughout my soul until the weight is stationed upon my tongue. To use the words to assault would be played well. And yet the sensation gained is nothing more than that of a rubber steak.
Nothing that appeals to any part of my spirit nor even the sting of my mind. Sharp is the courtesy. Yet I benefit greatly when I swallow the dirt building inside my heart.
That is how I transformed my options. I could have raked over the steamy remarks and snide innuendos but sometimes the greatest show of kindness is what digs the deepest wounds.
You see I have learned a great many things being at the bottom of the grave. I could have let all of myself stew within guilt less theories of playing the fields. And as demeaning as some of those scenarios were, I could pluck myself out. No remorse.
But I do not wallow in the wrongs scrapped over me. That saucy bitter venom no longer boils inside of me. The me before would have sought revenge to the tip. And had great success.
Yet the biggest side slap anyone will get is my silence. My back to their words and their labels. You see I built myself a wall, a ladder of muck and dragged myself out of the flooded grave.
Not to prove just how vengeful I can be but to show those my bittersweet memories are still within but I treat all with kindness.
Shaving down the barbwire to pruned shrubs. You would never understand what I was capable of, how I chose to do differently even when I should have been buried long ago.
Just a tragedy struck and marked as an inconvenience. Yet I struck a chord with every vein and pursued life. That is who I am.
People see a quiet, somewhat charismatic person but to peel back my layers, don't be scared of the spoils that lay behind. For that too is me. Darker, bitter chocolate with fire.
I have been in some dank places in my life. Scarred and scattered to the wind. Yet I hid my life so only visuals given was a life of joy.
One can hide bruises. One can hide words of hatred. One can even hide a slow death . Yet I couldn't hide my treachery. I couldn't hide the blank, hollow stare. I couldn't hide how lost I was.
And now I hide nothing.
Am I sweeter caramel now? Oh no. I still am the black, dark roasted coffee. I am still the 180 proof alcohol that stings your throat. Yet if you dare try to change me for better, how much can be improved?
Why not rejoice in the matter of the darkness is BEHIND me. Finally not swallowing me up only to regurgitate my remains later.
Just me thinking about the changes this past year has given me, I truly am grateful I wasn't eaten nor dissected to extremes. Only looked into the boxed in darkened corners and broke free.
So what is to happen now? I am always improving. Now it is up to Jehovah to see where and how I can be made righteous again. Time.
Nothing that appeals to any part of my spirit nor even the sting of my mind. Sharp is the courtesy. Yet I benefit greatly when I swallow the dirt building inside my heart.
That is how I transformed my options. I could have raked over the steamy remarks and snide innuendos but sometimes the greatest show of kindness is what digs the deepest wounds.
You see I have learned a great many things being at the bottom of the grave. I could have let all of myself stew within guilt less theories of playing the fields. And as demeaning as some of those scenarios were, I could pluck myself out. No remorse.
But I do not wallow in the wrongs scrapped over me. That saucy bitter venom no longer boils inside of me. The me before would have sought revenge to the tip. And had great success.
Yet the biggest side slap anyone will get is my silence. My back to their words and their labels. You see I built myself a wall, a ladder of muck and dragged myself out of the flooded grave.
Not to prove just how vengeful I can be but to show those my bittersweet memories are still within but I treat all with kindness.
Shaving down the barbwire to pruned shrubs. You would never understand what I was capable of, how I chose to do differently even when I should have been buried long ago.
Just a tragedy struck and marked as an inconvenience. Yet I struck a chord with every vein and pursued life. That is who I am.
People see a quiet, somewhat charismatic person but to peel back my layers, don't be scared of the spoils that lay behind. For that too is me. Darker, bitter chocolate with fire.
I have been in some dank places in my life. Scarred and scattered to the wind. Yet I hid my life so only visuals given was a life of joy.
One can hide bruises. One can hide words of hatred. One can even hide a slow death . Yet I couldn't hide my treachery. I couldn't hide the blank, hollow stare. I couldn't hide how lost I was.
And now I hide nothing.
Am I sweeter caramel now? Oh no. I still am the black, dark roasted coffee. I am still the 180 proof alcohol that stings your throat. Yet if you dare try to change me for better, how much can be improved?
Why not rejoice in the matter of the darkness is BEHIND me. Finally not swallowing me up only to regurgitate my remains later.
Just me thinking about the changes this past year has given me, I truly am grateful I wasn't eaten nor dissected to extremes. Only looked into the boxed in darkened corners and broke free.
So what is to happen now? I am always improving. Now it is up to Jehovah to see where and how I can be made righteous again. Time.
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