The things I would do for me and for you.

Upstairs.

My upstairs is a prison
It's scary in a way
I never know what I'm capable of
Till it happens that same day
I don't even choose my battles
Like there's a guard at the gate
Who only let's some feelings out
And the others have to stay

You haven't seen me fighting
Or slap a person yet
But the day it happens I'm pretty sure
My name will earn respect
You have laughed at me
Yelled at me
Scolded me too

And never have I ever
Expressed my anger to you
I feel like fighting someone
And screaming very loud
You're lucky I don't own a gun
Though I wouldn't use it
That I doubt

You're lucky I am me
And really no one else
Because other people shoot and kill
And Bury others when they're mad

So when you hear this poem
I ask of you
Please
Because I don't react to it
Doesn't mean I am weak
So don't mock me
When i have stayed calm
Or hit me too
Because one day
One day
I might just hit you too.