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anger
January 2009 
Anger
Posted on Jan 13th, 2009
by 
AngelosPsycho
AngelosPsycho
Feb. 15, 2008
These thoughts keep crashing into my mind,
thoughts of anger and discontent, thoughts of action.
Why do none of these thoughts become action?
What am I afraid of? Is she really- Does she really
have that strong a stranglehold
over me?
Do her hands
still grasp my neck,
any second to snap it?
Will that memory
haunt me forever,
will I never be able
to really trust again?
But again the anger.
She senses it. It feeds her.
It feeds her anger, strengthens
her hold, which makes me angrier.
Some day she will succeed
in snapping my neck-
unless I get out of here. again with the action. How am I supposed to get out of here?
What if I fail?
Then what?
The attempt will surely cost my life.
But what do I have
if I don't attempt?
A chance?
I have a chance if I try... but- the certain end...
they would hunt me down.
It's so near the end
but so far away.
I don't know if I can quite- if I yet have the strength
to pull myself through these last few.
She wishes me fail.
She pulls me down,
all in the hopes
of teaching me to be the subservient, firm "lady"
she wants me to be,
at the same time exacting revenge
for wrongs done her by a face
that looks like
mine but is not,
that I know not.
The past is seen within me
and I am the only one
that keeps it where it belongs.
I am, to her, a ghost
that haunts her every dream,
her every memory,
her every step,
pulling her into the abyss
of madness.
I wonder if I am already there?
Who would, if honest
with themselves, really
be able to tell?
who could fathom the depths
of foreverness,
of nothingness,
to tell what
it was like and what it might
look like?
And what is madness?
Is not madness
simply the perpetual state of being misunderstood?
Are we not all
mad?
Who can really
say that they are completely
known?
Fools, who do not know themselves,
may make the attempt,
but to what avail?
We say they are fools,
and then what?
Have we captured
with so shallow
a term the entirety
of their human existence,
however shallow their existence
may have been?
For instance, why
are they fools?
For the why
is an important factor,
indeed a part of the what
of who they are.
I don't allow myself anger.
Anger kills me.
Anger brings a directionless fist.
Anger breeds frustration.
Anger brings tears.
Anger kills all.
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