Poetry | Anger | About Being Different

broken glass on a deserted underpass
that's my anger down there
the release is sweet
and the crash even better
if only life were so satisfying

I knew before I went there
to throw my anger away
that simple deeds
couldn't fix what was broken
only people can fix it

I want to scream and yell and fight
even though it won't help
the glass'll still be broken
and my feeling's will still hurt

you can't make an elephant move
if he doesn't want to

Fuck you and your petty thoughts
you don't even have to speak
for me to hear them
I'm so tired of your unspoken words
and damnable insistence
that you're in the right

I'm not going to play the game
in my head I'm on that overpass
throwing glass down at the gravel
and winning a fight by not participating

I won't give you the satisfaction
of my anger or my words
I won't give you the power
to move me into your bitter world
I'm not your toy

I'm done, so done.
down there with the glass
happily in shards
my anger broken, gone
scattered on the pebbles.

S. Elizebeth Turnquist