anger.

a poem about the dangers of bottled rage.

is it not so inviting
to release this scorching sensation
from the depths of your aching heart
with every bit of your soul
writhing in agony.
it thrives as if it was boiling liquid poured
within your guileless veins
and you feel your body burn
while it trembles in silence,
eager for its inevitable combustion.
it lives and whispers
so brazenly in your ears,
haunting you with thoughts of
bursting right where you are,
leaving nothing but destruction
and despair in your wake.

yet you stow it away.
refusing to relinquish your control,
believing that you can keep it at bay
just as you have been accustomed to;
just as you have been taught to.
but for how long?

how long before your limits are reached
and your control is forever lost?
how long before you wreck havoc
and destroy all that you wished to protect?
how long before your prolonged internal agony
leads you to your own destruction?

you do not know.
but foolishly, you go on.
and with every second that passes,
your heart aches even more.