Trapped in a cage beneath his ego

I fell victim to the everyday cycle of gaslighting

Like coffee. No. Not coffee. 

He was not warm and energetic 

He was like sprite

Cold and regretful 

Making my stomach twist and groan in agony

Making my throat burn in silence yet numbness sensitive

The bursting tingling taste of sprite.

Deep down I knew it would do more to me than just satisfy my tongue buds. 

In a tall, plastic, white cup, this became my comfort drink

As I became more naive to what each sip did to me

I watched as both my physical and internal appearance grew more fond to the idea of water

Water was harmless, peaceful, unjudging of its toxic surroundings

While sprite had no regard for my feelings, for the hurt, for deteriorating me

Every person around me was waiting patiently to see if I would run back to the burst of toxic tastes

I forced the bland and tasteless sip of water down my throat

Waiting for each gulp to burn wonderfully 

The bottle of water gave me no feeling or taste in the moment

But with each sip, I could feel my body begin to scream thank you

Captivated by my new willingness to listen 

And now I take each sip of water silently saying “you are welcome”