poem by: Kimberly Lucier
Written on Aug 27, 2017

I want to talk.
I speak what I think it wants to hear.
I don't believe the lies that come from the depths. 
I feel the conflict, the anger starts to boil.
I push it down and change the subject.
The devil knows my tricks.
He brings me back to the old place- the darkness and confusion set in.
She comes up from deep within.
She doesn't trust those people, no, she doesn't trust anyone. She is rage and ready to devour.
It tries to speak and she knows it's cunning ways. She's not ever going to let it in and pushes it away with twisted furry. 
She laughs at it's attempts to crack her iron gates, but
The small voice says she doesn't want to fight tonight.
The tiny one tries to say to the rage "I can do this." 
The two within battle in her head and she can't take it anymore! So, the tiny one takes the medicine to make the rage-filled one quiet, and the rage-filled one only takes the medicine in defiance to numb the one she hates outside- it.
Either way they both win and I am left numb and defeated again.  


Tags: sad, anger, confused, pain,


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