An angry woman, she says.
I grimace.
I know she sees the truth.
But me? So meek, I am not angry.
She feels it in the silence.
But silence is my shield
Against the anger of the world.
Alone and mute, I am delivered
From fearful confrontation.
And red-faced, screaming, raging passion
An insane spew of violence.
Uncontrolled fist-biting, fighting,
A monstrous transformation.
Exploding, crazy words unleashed.
Blind chase to unknown target.
Tears and drama, hateful emotion
Out of all proprtion.
An unknown child, I'm scared, afraid-
I had not seen this coming.
And just as quick and unexpected
I wet my pants, I hate myself!
And now an adult, armed, defended,
I keep it all within.
The hurtful, guilt-inducing consequences,
Too exposing to endure.
Instead the screaming claustophobia
Trapped inside the forced smiles,
Clenched fists and grinding teeth,
Blood-bubbling, quickening heartbeat.
The seething, burning, buried rage,
The building bitterness.
Why me, this lonely, silent hate?
Breathe in and out. It will abate.
It does, but does not go away,
Inside me still it lingers.
And manifests itself in sadness,
Or confused, angry silence.
No comments:
Post a Comment