Oh, Anger – Poem

If I could
I would turn over tables
in the temple

But my anger
Is not righteous
It’s wrong

If I could
I would let my words
boil forth from my mouth

But my words
stay simmering

If I could
I would rage like a storm
lightning and thunder and hail

But my rage
will subside


Caving In (Poem)

My anger is
red around the

It grows outward, a
raw mess with a
beat of its own

My heart is
spiked and secure,
a shiny light
encased in leather

My eyes are
and my mind is

My hands are
phantoms, feeling
for hope

My lips already forgot

Most of me has
surrendured but

my soul

…… still