With the anger dripping from this pen I defend my souls honor.
The peace it breeds, multiplying my days
I am caught off guard by the mistrust.
The accusal, sheer death to progression
There is no other able to reach me as deep
No other capable of excavating my old self
My teeth grind together, jaws clinched
Hair that was once relaxed is now upright
Breathing slow and syncopated, controlled
The onset of calmness
The quietness of complete rage... mine
Why can I not harness that focus
The old me feels unhinged, almost free
Long has my past angst laid dormant
My position on confrontation so askew
Is this really happening?
My defenses were strong, fortified...
Have I broken that which I called fixed?
This pen is almost at its end, anger almost depleted
Though bent from frustration, it is usable
My soul is relaxing, it speaks victory to me
I always have to reach so deep
I know one day unscathed I will emerge
but not today...
Today I deal with the remnants of silenced rage.
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1 comment:
So, you posted all of these on October 5, 2008? I have a lot of writings that I want to add to mine--stuff that I wrote in the past. You should write some more and post some more stuff. It's good!! :)
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