MY ANGER

You may not take my anger from me.
My rage is my own.
My inner fury, turned inward,
Burning, destroying, cleansing,
Consuming myself and my sin.

Without anger what am I?
An empty ship without a destination,
A purposeless hulk
Drifting by a barren shore.

Anger gives me focus,
Breaks down the barriers,
Lets me feel a true emotion:
Jagged, raw, destructive, painful.
Anger drives away sin.
Anger buries pain.
Anger washes clean.
Anger is unambiguous.

No, you may not take my anger.
I clutch it like a totem.
It is the truest part of me.
I love my anger.
I feed it my frustrations, disappointments;
I feed it all the myriad commandments life inflicts.
I feed it honor, justice, truth,
And it consumes them all.

Truly nothing escapes the flame.
It burns completely, not even ash
Survives to haunt and trouble me.
I do not lack for fuel;
I fed it love some time ago.
I fed it you and them,
And every day we spend together
Feeds the hungry flame.

If I gave up my anger,
Then I would be defenseless
Against the fear and pain
Of necessity and duty.

I have no will, no strength,
No purpose without anger.
They took those from me long ago.
And now you want the anger too?
What will you give me in its place?
You offer love, commitment, intimacy;
What are those to me?
Love is everywhere,
The others are unbearable.
Peace, security, fulfillment? These I doubt.

I want to live alone with my anger.
I want to fling it scalding passersby.
I want to crush and destroy.
I want to waste and burn.
I want to die a living death.
I want to suffer and repent.
I want to find release, and peace
In loving and embracing anger.
I want my rage to turn upon me
And consume me fully,
So I no longer hurt,
Or feel, or grieve, or hate,
But sink mercifully senseless
In the lake of sorrow,
In the river of forgetfulness.

No, you may not take my anger.
It is my escape,
My protection,
And my life.