Every time that I think that my bucket is empty, you fill it with words that are harmless to you but destroying to me and my self-esteem slowly, but surely, drenches and becomes weak, just like a soaked piece of paper. Your words flow in my mind like a river streaming downhill. But they never seem to reach a pond, or a lake, or an ocean where they can just be and bother no one. I know that you do not realize how many times that I had to gasp for air, that I had to push myself to the surface because of you. You'd stop if you'd knew how harsh it is. Your hostile phrases are as permanent as the coldness of rain when you're already soaked with freezing water. The kind of cold that never seem to go away no matter how much time you spend in the sunlight. Even if I have one buoy that helps me whenever the wave of insults strike, it isn't enough. I still go below the surface. And when I come out, no matter how hard I search for, I can never find a towel that dries off the insults. So I let the sun, and time do the work. I keep telling myself to plunge past your insults but every time that I go for a swim, even for a quick dip, I get caught in your nasty currents and I can't continue my way in the peaceful waters. I guess that one day, the oceans and the lakes, and the ponds, and the rain will be warmer. But until then, I just have to wait for something unusual, such as, global warming perhaps, to change that ice cold substance into a pleasant and lukewarm liquid. |