Rage

My anger is diverse

One is dry,

Cold as a glacier,

Looming ominously.

It’s steel,

Sharp and unfeeling,

It will run you through without a second’s hesitation.

It is the dry debris

Left over from your poisonous presence.

Ready to be ignited by a spark

To be unleashed

In all its indifference to your pain.

It makes me feel powerful.

I love this anger.

It means I am done.

Done with your shit.

Ready to move on.

But the next

This rage is wet.

It brings me to the brink of tears

And makes my voice shake.

It is a raging storm

All rain

And thunder

And lighting.

It is passion personified

It is a flood of emotions.

And in all of its power

I feel weak.

It is a broken damn,

A shattered glass.

The feather that tips the scale

And the asshole that knocks it over.

It is the pieces left behind

After you have already moved on.

I hate this anger

I want to let go

But I care

Too

Damn

Much.

~Quill

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