The misplaced rage
Restless in my yellow armchair
peaking through the blinds
I find it hard to focus
or even comprehend.
A picture is all it takes
to throw me off balance
to stir the peace
that I had taken for granted.
I study his cheekbones
the spark in his eye
and his undeniable charm.
“Damn. That was fast.”
The sadness fills my arteries
and they clog up with anger,
irrepressible and misplaced feelings
of things being unfair
of lies been told.
“It was your choice.”
“We come and we go.”
“We’re all replaceable.”
I see myself mouth the words
in the mirror
but my brain is already at war.
I project myself into your head
and smash everything you told me up.
The corners of your mind turn dark,
the walls menacingly start to peel.
I stand in the middle
with the favorite vice in my hand.
A match to set this world ablaze
and engulf it in flames of hate.
I ponder.
I twitch.
I refuse to scratch this itch.
May this be a reminder
that this is no longer my battle
to win.
xxxo
