I Am Angry… And Afraid.
I Am Angry…
From the soles of my feet,
To the top of my head.
Every fiber of my being screams out
In impotent rage.
It colors every word I say,
Every thought I have,
Every passage I read,
And every interaction I have.
It is all just so…
And a dozen other ‘UN’s.
It isn’t fair to those around me
Who have to put up with my stupid temper.
My snarking at trivial things.
Lashing out at those who care.
I feel like I am sitting in a large room
With only my hands sticking out through
A wall of foot-thick glass;
Only able to interact with now-faulty digits alone.
Every single day..
The glass edges further down my hands.
Its cold, sharp edges,
Cutting away my feeling of the outer world.
And so I Fear.
I fear the day when the glass
Closes over my broken hands
Like it has over my shattered soul
And I am no longer able to reach out
Or interact with the ones I Love,
Leaving me all Alone to face my Pain and Sorrow.
Because I Know what comes then.
I almost welcome it.