It feels like I keep
my feelings in a bucket
And each day
it gets heavier
and heavier
Until I empty it.

But until Then
I carry this bucket around
It drags in the dirt behind me
and weighs me down.
And at the end of each day
I feel so heavy myself.

Every night I sort
through the bucket,
All the anger is crusted
to the bottom
and It's impossible to scrub away
Happiness is always falling out.
It takes a lot more happiness to fill that bucket
and even then it weights
less that even a speck of anger.

It takes a drop of sadness, a smidge
of pain, or even a dash of
frustration to overpower the happiness and
shove it from the bucket.

Finally one day I look
down at this bucket of mine and
I realize, I'm tired
of lugging it around
and carrying
the wounds
and anger of my past self.

Tonight I empty my bucket
I'll let the pain and sadness
go
and set the anger free

After all I can't hold on to it
forever