It ends all things
and begins movement,
slow and deep inside,
until momentum kicks
and you tumble,
face first,
into the unknown
wild, aggressive,
but you fight on,
through the think briars
and lion’s dens,
because it will not
allow you to go back.

Another Day

It was like vomit
building in my stomach,
butterflies molding
and decaying,
past the point of fluttering,
I had no choice
but to call that night,
hoping not to gag
on my words
as I begged for forgiveness
hoping you would remember
our times in the forest
or on the dock,
and after hearing
my tears
your voice smiled
and cleaned away
the rot growing
so there would be
another day

Paragraph on Anger

Anger is a funny emotion. It will creep up on you silently and pounce like a lion on its prey. You never saw it coming. You prepared no additional defense for this onslaught. All you have is your immediate reaction: fight or flight. Will you run from your anger, Hands thrown in the air, screaming? Or will you defend yourself from the lion, spear at the ready, holding it at bay? Will you let it overtake you? Bathe you in the blood of those around you? Will you allow it to consume you, until you implode from fighting? What if you embraced it? Allowed the lion to tear through you and then let the wounds heal?