Secret Thoughts of Water Bottles...
by Danielle Sullivan

I sit there. On that table, looking at you.  You just see through me. Will you need me later? You always just use me. I don’t feel respected.  All you do is fill me up, but then drain me almost as fast.  I have needs too. I wish I could see the world.  I was just created, put on a shelf, and then I met you.  I know you care about me. You put that glove on me, made me different than the rest. You have tried to label me, but I won’t let you.  I don’t want to be labeled, to be pigeon holed, to be put in a box.  I want to be free. Clear and ready to be filled with whatever.  I don't like to just be thrown into things. I wish I had more warning. Shoved into hard places, soft places, warm places, sweaty places.  Stop thinking like that, I’m talking about book bags, gym bags, in your purse, cloth bags, or on the car floor.  I don’t like being cold, but you insist on keeping me cold. Have you once thought about what I would want? What I might need?  No, it’s all about you. What you need, want. How can I assist you, serve you? Make sure you are hydrated enough.  I do like when you hold me, tip me up.  I like to feel close, to feel contact. I prefer sitting next to you, then left to roll on the car floor, unknowing if I will ever be picked up again.  I do get lonely, but I know that I will be with you as long as you will have me.  I guess that is good enough for now...