a bottle.
her heart.
they have something in common.
a bottle cages something inside,
holds it.
her heart cages the pain,
the sadness, the ink.
ink of black lies, betrayal,
regret, the overwhelming thoughts.
it bottles everything and anything,
until...
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the very first hours of a great tragedy, of laughs and smiles, some troubles quite dainty. melts the shards of ice, a puddle of water persists, all together in chaos, swirling through the twists. chuckles of gold, breaking through the worries. spent the days enjoying, had no hurries. some stuck inside the chain of numbers, at times, only knew wake up's and slumbers. jobs were online, school was going fine, although, everything did feel like a crime. schools, offices were now empty, days in puzzlement went in plenty. some calling relatives from near and far, some chit-chatting all the time, nothing bizzare. the very first days of the pandemic? this is how they went, unaware of the great troubles they further sent. - luce.
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this one is about the early hours of lockdown, the time when we weren't quite aware about things. i wrote this some weeks ago, but thought that i shouldn't publish it, until someone told me that i should.
