I would tell you...

I would tell you what was wrong
if I didn't believe you would tell me 
why I was wrong for feeling like 
something is wrong.
I would explain my feelings
if I didn't believe you would offer
explanations for why what I feel
shouldn't be felt.
I would break my silence 
if I didn't believe you would dismiss
my words, concluding there is 
no reason to talk about it.


Therefore-- 


I maintain my silence out of foresight.
I hold my tongue out of prudence.
I squash my feelings to keep the peace.
And it's not because I can't express myself,
or don't want to.
And it's not because I can't find the words,
I have them in abundance.
I have played with words enough to 
know their value,
feel their power,
respect their potential.
I feel the finely honed edges of my verbs,
the heat of my nouns,
the heft of my adverbs and adjectives,
the venom of my expletives.
I know the damage I can do with my words.


Yet I stay silent.


Because if I were to speak,
and you disrespectfully wielded your words at me,
minimized my thoughts, opinions and feelings,
chopped and crushed them with dismissing words,
buried and suppressed them with your words,


well...
it would be game on.
And while you use your syllables without skills,
I have honed to a craft the use of my verbal arsenal.


So I stay silent.
Because some damage can not be undone.

getting stung

Anger buzzes in my head and belly

like a hive of disturbed bees.

I see the disparity of effort

and you getting more out of this than me.

For now, I still care enough to meddle

and stir up those bees 

by pointing out the inequity.

You don't have to worry yet that I will leave.

I'm still invested, still connected, 

still trying to prove that I matter.

I'm still protecting comb and honey and Queen,

with this anger buzzing inside of me.

Angry bees swarming to make a stand, here I am.

Buzzing and diving in my zig zag flight

to get your attention, make you hear me

Flying and buzzing until I tire.

My protest continues, attempts to protect,

attempts just to be heard and seen.

Exhausted, I can no longer fly, only buzz my wings.

My last stand, my final warning.

I want so much to continue,

I struggle against the futility

Too weary, my wings grow still and silent.

And yet, I know you fail to see.

The danger is not in the buzzing,

the anger is a sign of life.

The buzzing is only your warning.

Occurring only when the anger starts.

Fear that moment of silence.

The silence portends decision.

Dread the moment when the air goes flat.

What follows is resignation.

While I still care enough to buzz

to protect my hive and home

there is time to avoid the silence.

Damage can be undone.

But that silence of decision,

it's the harbinger of finality.

Because it means I don't care anymore.

Pushed past anger to apathy.

Then the hive is silent and empty.

No sweetness left in its chambers.

The swarm has taken the Queen and gone.

Leaving only the shell of the comb.

THEM

Composed at a moment of realization and clarity. Maybe not the most "poetic" thing I've ever written, but it's honest at least!

Maaaannnn....

I'm sick

of them!

Sick to the point of fallin out

of them!!

Ready to have it out

with them!

Just absolutely unquestioningly

tired of them!

To hell with them!

Fuck them

and their opinions,

and their misconceptions,

and their perceptions,

and their good intentions,

and their questions,

and their preconceived notions,

and all of that!

Who are they anyway?

You tell me

what they have to say

to you

about me

and the way

I choose

to live

my life.

You keep me

informed,

in the loop,

in the know....

Awww....snap!

I see.

It's not them

judging me.

Fuck YOU!

some questions...

Where does it come from?

This I'll show you attitude,

this cuttin' off my nose to spite my face...

Where does it get me?

Doing silly things at you,

that only hurt me in the end...

Where do I come by this urge?

Being outrageous and whatnot,

all out of character to prove...

What?

Thoughts that make me profoundly

uncomfortable in my own skin...

Behavior that makes me want to hide my face...

Words that spew like bile

out of anger...

That don't form themselves well in my mouth

or my mind....

And lastly...

how do I make it go away?

Changing the Rules

I knew how it was in the beginning

Everything explained and understood.

I agreed to the rules in the beginning

Ain't no fair trynna change shit now.

But I'm finding out the hard way,

what I agreed to abide by in theory

is a hell of a lot harder in actuality,

is a hell of a lonely road.

And I wanna change the rules,

make new rules,

destroy the rules,

screw the rules!

I don't want to be the quietly

meekly

humbly

homebound

homebody

waiting

watching

never complaining

never exploding

never feeling

anything....

Can we change the rules?

Anger

Because I couldn't be there

Because no one else was

Because it happened

There is anger

Because he didn't say it

Because my rock dissolved

Because he failed me

I feel anger

Because it doesn't solve it

Because it's no one's fault

Because it just exhausts me

I leave anger