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Hope in a Bottle

Author: Kat Connelly
Year: Hope

Please note: this piece contains content that some readers may find upsetting.

Whit’s so tempting aboot you that he turns tae you instead ae me?

Av seen ye many times noo, but a dinnae see whit he must see.

A see poison and fear masked as medicine and self-care

But it’s self-medication fir him cause there’s nae self-esteem anymer

Ye mix well wae others, but ye dae well oan yer ain

Wan, two, three, ye cannae leave him alane

He tells ye his truths instead ae confiding in me

Cause when the honesty is honest he cannae see how that kin be

He’s became addicted tae the taste left oan his lips

Yer hell bent oan being the death ae this relationship.

But a live in hope even though ye’ve turned his heid

A live in hope even when a see his eyes ur deid

A bathe in hope when he disnae come hame

And bathe in hope again worried he’s unconscious and alane

How wid ye feel if every time the phone rang ye wur ill?

If ye forgot how tae breath and yer heart stood still?

If it wis the call ye wur waiting fir and dreading?

If that wis the direction ye knew he wis heading?

Huv ye ever wondered if he might hurt himself or somebody else?

Huv ye ever stayed up aw night greeting begging him tae get help?

When he’s wae you he tells me he kin jist forget

A thought oor life wis good so is it forget or regret?

Cause if he cannae talk tae me but he’s got a lot tae say

And he’s spiraling oot ae control, then whit else kin a dae?

Because am scared ae him noo, scared ae whit he’s become

And a blamed you maistly fir aw the frightening hings he’s done.

Yer wur nuttin mer than a bit oan the side that’s noo a long-term fling

Yer his crutch, a distraction wae the temporary happiness ye bring.

And aye awrite it’s true he did choose you o’er me

But in a culture like oors, a see how tempting that kin be.

Yer relationship the gither is toxic, there’s nae happy ending here

Mer drinks the morra tae fight the dreaded fear.

Am still praying fir recovery and fir yous two tae breakup

When there comes a time he’s ready and willing tae stoap bottling it up

His bottle is hawf full wae spirits tae try and cope

Ma bottle is brimful wae hope efter hope efter hope.

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