There’s rarely fights
(We’re too solid for that, after all)
There’s just insidious malcontent
Morphing into anger first
And then, sometimes, madness
Turned inwards, burning from the inside out
…
Frothing at the mouth
Over prophesized outcomes
I’ll never prevent
Fury turned inward:
History deafens me while
Self-hate steals my sight
I’m angry as hell
At predicted ends because
I’m fucking mental
Damp heat in late spring:
Anger can’t last forever
Under smoke and ash
Memories of those I hate
Or hated
Still walk into the room some evenings
Looking, somehow, as shocked to see me
As I am angry to see them
…
…
Today I think about all the tenderness I felt
That they could just never hold on to
That I couldn’t place their fingers around
Not knowing if it was their failure
Or mine
…
They don’t like the word “deserving”
But they fear taking too much
They use different words
But I hear “undeserving” in their message
I ask…
Stormy skies pound down onto dark shorelines
Anger whips branches and brambles to and fro
Thunder and lighting tear the sky into pieces
Echoing a desperate rage
Found in any lifetime of faulty connections
Dark clouds oppressive with no end in sight
Mix with a melancholy
Only the perpetually lonely can understand…
Some days I get a little angry.
Some days I get a little rebellious.
I don’t know why.
Some days I get extremely angry,
almost enraged,
and I still don’t know why.
…crawling with shallow punishments… inflicted in anger and defiance of the norm, and refusal to accept its claims.