Blasting away heavy metal music ,
The angry lyrics and angst screams .
I picture myself ,
Punching the car’s windshield .
Watching the barrier crack ,
From the impact of my fist ;
Like a cement sidewalk giving way
To the wild desperation of dandelions .
I want to see my anger ;
As poetry of a flower ,
Etched in glass .
I want the delusion of falling apart ;
That is like a dying swan ,
A swirl of yellow leaves in the fall .
Yet it would be more accurate to admit ;
Anger is a stone ,
Thrown through antique church glass windows.
The anger is a drunkard ,
Singing lewd songs at a funeral .
An addict ,
Putting a knife through your liver ,
Before grabbing ten bucks for a fix .
The anger is bold ,
Destructive and frightening ,
Not at all beautiful .
Visions of entrails ,
blood splatter patterns .
The anger , I ,
Am beginning to scare myself .