Righteous Rage

a poem

Image by Gayatri Malhotra on Unsplash

Sometimes I burn with indignatious rage,
Sometimes I choke on all the words I have not spoken,
I struggle to swallow them down
One. More. Time.

I can’t speak with your hands across my mouth,
teaching me to hold my tongue.
I can’t move with you always in front of me,
teaching me to know my place.

My mind is kept full of meaningless news,
My hands kept busy with monotonous drudgery,
I am occupied,
I am unable to free myself.

It bubbles and boils,
It burns through my veins,
races with my thunderous heartbeat, surges within my chest,
threatening to explode out on my breath.

My rage is righteous,
It is the glitter in my eyes,
the heat in my stare,
the fuel I survive on.

This piece was taken from my debut collection ‘Climbing In The Dark’.

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