Rage is a place kept
permanently locked

Who will give me the
key to this city?

What ribbon of therapy
do I have to cut?

I am so out of touch
with its rough texture

I run my fingers along its
city walls and stall

as I consider trespassing.

I conjured it recently
So struck by its force

I saw stars from a
thousand black nights

A result of my neurons
pressing weeping black
wounds downdowndown
into my nervous system

just for them to seep out
in other ways

“Depression is anger turned inward”

Terrifying screams
surprisingly cut from

my own vocal cords
begin to reverberate

Like an AI version
of how it would sound

if I werе actually, genuinely
deeply enragеd

I am rageful
I have my reasons

but it doesn’t scare
me anymore
Because I know
rage is not forever

It passes

It has purpose

and to deny it

is to keep it alive