anger, where are you?
people tell me how horrible you are.
without prompt, they count the ways they would hang you,
spit in your face.
and as they tell me, they look at me for reassurance,
but I give them none.
i wish i hated you.
i wish i too had a long list of excruciating deaths I could serve you.
they say you deserve that,
you killed a piece of me,
an eye for an eye, a life for a life?
i’m not so sure.
i know i’m supposed to feel the anger in my bones.
i sometimes think something is wrong with me.
perhaps your insidious grip is still wrapped around me,
perhaps it’s the only thing I know.
the thing is,
it’s easier to hate myself.
it’s easier to blame myself then admit that you hurt me.
that you killed me,
because where would that leave me?
so yes, i’ll take the blame.
i’ll save the fiery slow death that you no doubly deserve.
i’ll save myself the pain of dying again.
I had a session the other week and my therapist wanted me to connect with my anger. I've always had a hard time feeling angry towards my abuser. Logically, I know I should. If I were an outsider, I would feel angry towards him. However, emotionally, I can't feel it. The anger feels so far away. So, I wrote this.
Edited by Haze_D
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