My Anger Precedes Me - Olive Murray

My anger precedes me because she is a war horse,
rough stallion with sharp teeth for gnashing,
and a hand full of her enemies hair.

My anger precedes me because she has no patience,
her inhibitions are made faulty by the long stretch that incurs her wrath,
and the tendrils of fire which fall from fingertips better made for caressing.

My anger precedes me because when she falls down,
you must fall with her, and the fall is long, hard, and rough;
tumultuous in its landings, uncomfortable in the silence.

My anger precedes me because I am not strong enough,
and I must displace her until I am, until her raw, seething visage,
is nothing more than a shadow on your back, and I have lost your image.



There's something to be said about anger, with it's loose canon grip.
There's something to be said about the times that cause your slipping words to catch within my wild heart,
as if by some prayer, I will not hear the words you meant to say. But I heard them.

My Anger Precedes Me by Bella Murray