You push me up against the wall
because you fear that I will take it all,
but you don't understand
that the kids here
bleed 'til their hands disappear.
You kick me down
'til I stay down,
or until I destroy
everything I've come to love
but misplace my annoyances on,
and I've become the one thing
that I hate in other people.
I'm struggling to see
the god-forsaken good in me.
I can't wait 'til I fall asleep
and my head leaves morality.
Weapons don't scare me,
and demons just placate
the burning rage inside
that I see every time
I close my eyes.
I'm so sick --
to my stomach --
with churning organs
turning like a clock,
because I can't stop.
I can't stop.
YOU ARE READING
the Dawning of Rage (poetry)
PoetryThis is a book of enraged poems. Don't say I didn't warn you! The purpose of this book, essentially, serves as a therapeutic outlet. This is NOT some manifesto, but a place of expression. Feelings of such loathing and hate, I don't believe, should b...
