The Danger of Anger

 "You can't paint a clock with mercury and not expect to lose your teeth."

She said as I stood there with my jaw clenched hard enough that the heat of my wrath evaporated the tears of my sorrow. My shoulder's sagged as I realized what she meant.

Rage can mask grief. It is an armor that protects us from the arrows of woe. Unfortunately, armor comes with a sword and a blindness. It seeps into every crevice of our life, harmfully affecting that which we are charged to protect. Within it, we lose all other feeling, good and bad. Often not realizing it until we gaze upon the wreckage in our wake. 

You cannot wield it without harm.

Death

I want to meet him.

Death. 

The one who has taken 

everything from me to keep. 

We must be similar if we 

love all of the same things.

Pitcher

 Many say they’re tired

But does your skin fall from your bones?

Do your eyes sink in the sockets

And your mouth go dry as stone? 

Some people are a pitcher

And others are a cup

The pitcher pours and pours

But the cups they never fill up

Alone

 They judged me to be judgy

As I sat there in silence drinking in the intriguing chatter 

They judged me to be judgy

As my face does not rest in smiles and laughter

They judged me to be judgy

I stutter responses as my thoughts scatter

So I keep to myself

In my place in the rafters

So I keep to myself

Surrounded by empty cans and candy wrappers

They judged me to be judgy 

Little do they know how much that matters

Dirty

 My mirror is dirty

And I can’t wipe it clean

I know my worth

But that’s not who I see

How can my body

God loves so much

Not be the one 

you yearn to touch? 

Day after day

I fight an urge

To mar the image

The painful surge

“Why are you on your phone so much?”

 It’s the easiest way to turn off

The voices in my head

Makes my mind go numb

And my thoughts go dead

A way to stop the torment

Of constant stress and strife

Forgetting responsibility 

Pressing pause on life

But to turn off the bad

You turn off the good

For love needs pain

My mind understood

 

I feel like I no longer write or do things of creation.

Worries have crushed my sight, destroyed imagination