[of dreams and galaxies]

[ Turning Ache Into Anger]

This is not a poem
These are words jumbled together in anger
Because the tears won't stop
And I'm still alive
But they say if you are alive
It's a blessing isn't it
But that's the thing
I don't even know anymore /what alive is/
Because I'm frustrated
/with the world /
/With myself /
/with my mother/
/with my father /
because the people who were supposed to be a safe home for me / ended up to be the glass shards that hurt your hands / it bleeds you see the sharp edges cut through your skin /
And you don't even know if it's a good thing,
That you can still feel
I'm angry/and the tears are trying to be blood
Because people care more when there is blood right
So I'm trying /to change the tears or the anger /into blood,
"this anger will destroy you one day" they say
But what am I supposed to do with it
/keep it in beautiful jars and make it look beautiful /
/keep it in the hushed whispers because if no one hears then it doesn't exist /
/or maybe keep it in my heart maybe it will end up bleeding all over because it's too much /
For my heart is weak and there's too much anger
/ for I can not take this much ache /
/so rather I'm turning my ache into anger /
Then maybe my heart will accept it.