A hard pill to swallow
When I’m already tongue tied from the taste of guilt.
Word vomit
because I’m frustrated yet wrongfully envious of all the nothingness you have at your fingertips,
your consumption,
your disposal
as I’m purged of everything that I can bet my life on that you’ll be more than okay.
I’m passive aggressive at times. Dismissive in most of my entirety.
My exchanges meant to attack you, cut me more deeply in these rare occasions.
So it is a hard pill to swallow.
I’m reminded of it too when your 9pm alarm goes off and I can hear the pitter patter of misplaced pity hit the walls of a prescription bottle.
It’s been almost a year since the second(s)/time and now I always face December with an overprotective embrace.
To compare in any case would be me swallowing
my own pride.
For tears I have cried.
My gut (instinct) telling me to take it each day at a time.
The hardest pill to swallow.
