last night i got angry
it was a very strange feeling because
i've never really gotten angry before
i got so angry i went outside and
ripped 3 branches of leaves from a bush
i stared at them
a plant's livelihood
sitting in my hand
and suddenly i was a murderer
i began to cry
and cry and cry
i didn't want to get that angry
or go ballistic
but i felt mad
in more ways than one.
this is like a diary entry, a personal anecdote for me. it might be hard to relate to this, but sometimes poems are just meant as a release. this one is. please enjoy all the same!