My Anger

I went to see my therapist yesterday.

We talked about anger.

Specifically, we talked about how

afraid I am of my anger.

She is right.

The intensity of my anger scares me

more than almost anything else.

I have been having the most vivid

and violent dreams lately.

In the dreams, I brutally stab

my rapists to death.

During the dream, it feels so good

to stab and slash.

Their blood feels like a cleansing rain.

I feel powerful.

I feel joyful.

Then, I awaken,

and all that I can feel

is shame and disgust.

Again...

So, I turn my anger inward.

I try to bury it and ignore

that it exists.

I try not to exist.

I starve.

I want to take back my power,

but...

I am afraid.