by Winboda
If I keep pushing it down, will it stay dead?
The darkness in me can’t see the light.
Or should I just let it rise?
If I keep pushing it away, will it still stay?
This feeling of emptiness is full of pain.
Or should I just pull it together?
If I keep this fire burning who will it hurt?
This heat is rising. How do I put it out?
I’m angry, I can’t stand this heat I need to release…
I’m angry at myself for letting go.
I’m angry that you didn’t catch me.
I’m angry I expected you to.
I’m angry I let you in and now I can’t keep you out.
I’m angry she didn’t love herself.
I’m angry she couldn’t kick him out.
I’m angry she couldn’t teach me to love myself.
I’m angry she stayed, whilst he held the door open.
She didn’t know she was free. She still doesn’t know she’s free.
I’m angry he couldn’t love her.
I’m angry this is just the tip of it all, I don’t want to go deep.
I’m just trying to release.
This anger was never meant for me.
I need to be free.
This anger is not me.
I was born to be free.
Winboda is a British-Ghanaian writer. She is currently living in Ghana, enjoying her journey of self-discovery. She is a lover of growth and believer in the power of love and duality