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I am in love with the idea of love, with the very thought of it.
But I am not in love with being in love.

It hurts in the pits of my stomach, roils like a storm above an unsettled sea.
And my eyes are the escape, my mouth the outlet.

Once the actual love comes pouring into my chest cavity the turmoil grows louder.
An antagonist, a conduit for anger, destruction.

When I love it is with fear, a tight fist clutched at my side, a knot of unknow.
I'll apologize each time I let this go.
Christine Ely Sep 22
than you do.

It’s brazen and well-understood
I feel like me but manic;
Our doing things that just before
had made me want to panic.

It’s fun, it’s harmless, we pass the time;
I wonder if there’s merit still
when “God says” it’s a crime.

And afterward, when conflict roils
and doubt fills to the brim
Conscience is left in clutches which
entail both sobs and grins.

A painful sort of burgeoning
a growth that you can’t see
There’s nothing I can do to solve
I lose both ways, yet I lose free.
syncopation Jun 2018
It’s only words they say
But words are all we have at the end of the day

To think a thought, feel a feeling
To have you understand what one is meaning

It may not be much but it can cut
Palpable and deep within your gut

It can also heal a gaping wound
Wrap it within its soothing swoon
Of warmth, desire,
Love and fire
Words are there to also inspire

It is only ink to paper
But does incite
Emotions enough to ignite
War and famine
Hate and lament

As it roils and boils
Tumbles and turns
A kaleidoscope mixing bowl it churns

It may only be words
but words aren’t to be spurned
For it has the power to heal or burn.
***
The sludge seeps into my marrow.
Filling every pore, every entrance until I’m suffocating in it.
It roils and slurps with its oppressive heat
And gurgles and spits until it wraps me up completely.

It hardens.
The shell so thick nothing can penetrate it.
You chisel, and chisel away and I watch you
And I laugh at you.

I laugh so heartily at your futile efforts to get to my center
I watch you grow frustrated
I watch you get angry
I watch you try by force
I watch you give up and walk away

And I laugh.
Because I drank the hate you poured
And I let it consume me.
There is no hate more hilariously poisonous than yours.

The delicious malice of armor created by you.
Does it make you feel weak?
Does it make you feel inadequate?
Does it make you feel hopeless?

I swim deep in those feelings until I bottom out in the ecstasy
Of their prison.

Bitter.
My return to the present is bitter.
The aftertaste of your shot of hatred is putrid.
It festers and infuriates me.
I want to bathe in its luxury of intoxicating drama
And shoot you down where you stand until there is nothing left
Of the bottle but puddles.

Forget?
I’ll forget when you perish. When I watch the heat
From the sludge devour you inside and out.
When I see the steam rise from your burnt ashes.
When I pull the trigger and see the fire melt your hateful eyes into the
holy oblivion of uninterrupted agony...
When the world burns you as I stand unfazed in your corroded armor of hate...
Then I’ll forget.
#stages #of #grief #anger #resentment #hate #release
N Schlegel Dec 2018
Can you hear the howl caught in the hollow of my heart?
Don’t think because I’m not screaming anymore I like it here.
This perpetual half-formed shout is always one missed exhale away from breaking free.
Anger roils in my chest,
crashing and breaking against the cage built to contain my emotions.
I didn’t want one there,
but I needed it.
It’s bars are build from the ruins of burned bridges and broken friendships.
Look at all the pain I’ve caused because I raged over the smallest sins.
Look at all the people I’ve hurt because I let frustration form fists of my words.
I still don’t like it here.
I don’t think I ever will.
But you’ll never know it.
Because I’ve trapped the howl, and caught it in my heart

— The End —