Rage.

A Journal entry-type poem explaining rage in an unconsumed point of view.

Rage.

Rage is defined as "violent, uncontrollable anger" yet treated like anger�"synonyms with different definitions. Rage can be in several forms: friends, family, signs, and so on. Does rage have boundaries? Does it stop at loved ones? Does it start with strangers? Are you born with it? Everyone can rage and everyone has the emotion, angels included. Rage can be disguised as tears or a smile. She is the best con artist, she's a hider in an unwinnable game of hide and seek but with no seekers, it is never to be found.

People don't come to terms with rage, it's non-existent, and it drives people insane. You could rage at a friend, it doesn't mean you're in the wrong, it just means you lost control. People can lose control every once in a while even with a friend, a thing, or a mom. A scream that wants to force its way out...rage. A fist waiting to connect with something...rage. A deafening sigh before you tear someone apart...rage.

I've felt rage but it was never let out, the basic human response to her. If you can feel rage at a long-time friend what's going to stop you from a random person? Do they matter to me? Of course, but do they matter to rage and her fire? Not at all, and they never will.

Maybe I'm driving myself insane. Once is understandable, but twice? Am I the problem? Rage said no, but Saints said yes. Rage is the blister on society's foot that it tries to cover up. Am I fine? Rage said no, she's a quiet individual who creeps up on people, even the nicest people. She's scary but very few people accept her, I wouldn't. I never will, but I know she's present.

A person with someone lacks rage, a person who's alone is rage. The difference is black and white but the gray area is blind to the human eye. When she takes the blinds of that eye people fall for her, and it never ends well. I will willingly keep the blindfold on, being blind to rage is the safest option while stepping into her blinding fire. Her time has been wasted, and it will not be wasted anymore.

Rage.

I've felt her 21 times before my 19 birthday. Defined as; violent, uncontrollable anger. Yet controlled by anger himself.

Author's Note

Any help be nice.

Reviews

[living lavender]

you are not the problem. this was a beautiful read.
i feel as rage is the purest form of anger. the queen of fire.
can not be contained. but when faced head on. she earns respect due.

my favorite line of this piece:
"Defined as; violent, uncontrollable anger. Yet controlled by anger himself."
{don't edit this journal entry. these words have strength.}