Anger

Well … it is back 

The anger has returned 

I can feel it 

trying to eat its way 

into my soul 

trying to cloud 

every piece of my life 

It was created decades ago 

It was born of frustration 

It was born of fear 

It is a long line of ancient anger 

I foolishly thought I had banished it 

It seems I only chased it deeper

 into the caverns of my soul 

where, until today 

it patiently licked its wounds 

and waited 

It waited for a sound 

a sound that goes beyond frustration 

a sound that lies lower than fear 

It is spurred on 

by the actions of many 

but it still lives 

and feeds on me 

When I let the actions of others drive me, 

I feed it 

When I close my heart to the pain, 

I feed it 

When I will not face my shortcomings, 

I loosen his collar

It is the beast 

I do not want to own 

yet am unable to destroy 

Long ago, I thought I killed that beast 

Today, he reared his head 

and devoured all within his reach 

before I could stop him 

He is not wanton 

He does not strike without purpose 

I have allowed him to be loosened once more 

I fear him terribly 

His face in the mirror is mine 

The voice he uses is mine 

The hands of his misdeeds are mine 

The feet that carry him are mine 

He does not allow me to think 

He does not allow me to consider 

He is gracious in that he will allow me to hurt 

For hurt will loosen my grip on his chain 

Clarity is his enemy 

Clarity will allow me to see the twin collars 

and the chain between them 

The one is on me 

The other is on him 

Anger rails against my enemies 

until I can no longer see the difference 

The lust for blood rises 

until we both drown in it 

It occurs to me 

then he will be free 

He will finally be free 

of me 

 

©Ron Simpson Jr.