My mind is ablaze with wordy demons
That demand to be released in ink,
Lest they sink
And fester deep in my soul,
To burn like a coal
In my consciousness.
To hold them captive is to choke on them,
As they rise in such awkward places,
Where the truth is not welcome
And I risk letting hell come
Into the open.
I hold them in until I can find a pen
And I write them into life until
They are still,
Safely confined to the page,
Diffusing the rage
Through beautiful words.
People think I’m not an angry person
And they consider me to be strong.
They are wrong.
I just cleanse my soul in ink,
Come back from the brink,
And begin anew.