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The Library - Fiction for the Heart The Growth of Rage
pct - 06/16/03
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At first it was a little thing. A child newborn a toddler of anger, small and sweet shaking little fists. A tantrum of milk and honey. I came from its rapture to see you ... feel you stern forboding forbidding I didn't understand at first. I didn't know. How it could be. When you took your love away. And I fell into a dark grave. And I learned. so wrong so wrong my little anger. And then it was a bigger thing. No longer a child. It had grown up, my anger, and become something more Rage. As layer upon layer upon layer my angers grew and mounted and piled high and became an enormous dome filled with buzzing bees Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!! I came from its rapture to see you feel you angry forboding cold unforgiving I remembered. And I knew how it could be. That you would take your love away. And I fell into a dark grave. I tried to learn. But I seethed. And it grew layer upon layer to a fullness of fury... a congestion... a tangle. A little anger grown to rage grown and grown and grown to hatred. HATRED. No child, this. No harmless, sweet, fist-shaking. But something Deadly... Pernicious... Toxic. I hold this seething poison in my belly. A cauldron overflowing. A molten mixture that should never have been. It pops and burbles It seethes and gurgles. When it cannot find you, ... it finds me. It eats me from the inside out. And this this nasty beast is all you see of me. Is all you believe to be true of me. I didn't understand at first. I didn't know. How it could be. When you take your love away. And so I fall into a dark grave. And I never learn. |