I don’t like who I am when I’m angry.

But I don’t like who anyone else is

when I’m angry either.

 

The exhaustion afterwards,

is it a reward

or a punishment?

 

I’ve had rage

that scares me

twice this month.

 

The harshness in my voice,

I’m afraid it will consume me

or become me.

 

I sacrificed

a perfectly good day

to my own fear and anger.

And I’m already starting

to carve up tomorrow.