anger

My stomach’s full of stones, my ear’s swollen with noise, my heart is a plank of wood pounding against the fragile membranes of  my body.

Anger is a cruel fever, for it may pass or it may bundle itself up, tight and spiky, in your veins; in every runaway capillary.

It is a terrorist. It hijacks the very bones and melts deeply into their soft marrow until they are so intertwined that it is lost in the very furrows of your flesh.

Let it go before it is lost within you. Steady that hand which pounds the plank; listen softly for the world until you hear the air again…

And remember that the reason for your anger will not overcome you. Hold up the shield that has grown with your bones, and stop that anger seeping in.

Say sorry, keep breathing, and remember life is hard and crazy, yet wonderful: this is but one part of the tapestry.

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