This Anger Inside

Pouring truth

a constant

a reminder of my childhood,

of last week,

the turn of the year

any number of significant

anniversary.

 

When I allow myself,

there is this rage that evolves

asking for some release

begging explanation,

only my outcome,

is the same,

a disregard for my insides.

 

This disdain my mind speaks of

not meant for

you, them , that, those, when, why,

any presence or childhood,

my young adult life,

pick a phase,

all the stored up rage (sic)

is beyond anyone else,

internally storming  my

ability to console,

mistakes, missed, manifest

in my own

desire, or a lack

of regard

for change.

 

This is my anger, not yours.

---

© Scott F Savage 8/2020