Sometimes
When the burn on my lips and the
Heat in my eyes
Refuses to leave, only sinks into
Bones and blood
It's as if the anger is me
And I am the anger—inseparable, indistinguishable
Now I carry reminders—
A scar on my wrist, a bitten thumbnail, and a bracelet spelling
B-R-E-A-T-H-E
I can hold onto these
And they keep me in my skin
The anger is still in my bones
But time cools the heat
And I have learned to live with
Being frozen and also on fire.
YOU ARE READING
poems from the darkroom
PoezjaI can't always say how I feel, but collecting poems from the corners of my brain and the millions of half-full notebooks makes me feel a little better. I hope you can relate to them, or at least be distracted from life for a moment :)
