Frustration

Rage begins in my sleep
anger continues to drip,
seeping out of and
onto my skin.
Silently I function without a word
but my insides nearly collapse.

My body is now just a hollow
punching bag full of constrained,
unbridled emotion that I can’t let out.

How can I clean my soul
mainlining my battered heart.

Please let me go.

Published in “Having a Whiskey Coke With You” Issue #12 May ’12

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