Blood Bottle..

"Every scar has a story embedded into forever."
-Robin Tey

The impossibility of living a life without scars is absolute.
Something that can't be escaped..
I have lived my life knowing this..
I have lived my life expecting this..
I have lived my life with this..
Just this.
Some saw the scars in me..
Inside..
Outside..
The rest saw the scars on me..
Outside..
But, even I can see the scars..
Visually blind to it..
Audibly deaf to it..
Physically touching it..
Odorless and bland.

I have contained the scars of my life in a single bottle..
One that has lived years of stories..
One that has endured years of burdens..
One that has withstood years of experiences.
Sealed by only the strength of fear alone.
Containing disappointment..
Containing betrayal..
Containing hatred..
Containing anger..
Containing me.
A battle destined for defeat..
With expectations prepared for a future date..
One set later..
Further..
And yet, I have failed even here.
I once made declaration..
I once made a challenge.
Never to lose here.
Forced not by motivation..
Forced not by desire..
Forced not by logic..
But, forced by compulsion..
Compelled by constraints..

Today on this day..
The blood that stains my hand..
They speak of my failures..
My ill preparation..
As they cover the entirety of my hands..
The entity designated with misfortune..
With the misfortune of handling all that I am..
My pure anger..
My pure hatred..
My pure detest..
With blood filled fists I have only this.
And even with today's end..
I find no satisfaction..
Only open wounds where my knuckles used to sit..
Only a blood littered bag that used to be clean..
My pain tells me I feel too much.
My blood tells me I'm not strong enough.
My crack tells me I'm not capable of handling it..
My scars tell me that I will never be anything more..
Nothing but an entity of darkness..
Cynical..
Pessimistic..
Full of deceit..
Full of nothing..
Nothing but the hate that I am.
This is all I have.

Filled with water red..
This is my blood bottle.