The Phoenix's Reversal

i can't manipulate him.  where is the power in that? 

i refuse to be impotent in this. 

i'd rather be raging and despotic than disconsolate and raw. 

but, i'm not allowed. there are restrictions on my fire - "do you want a happy marriage? it certainly doesn't seem so, miss." 

"better to be kind than right, wouldn't you say?"

screaming won't stop them. scratching and biting causes more consequence than result. 

what is left of me? smoldering ash, bits of me reduced to furor. 

where do i put this anger? scrape it into a jelly jar, screw tightly the lid, and then? 

if that's all i am, i want to hang on to it. i want to spread the ashes on a white canvas, cut my fingertips and leave a trace of myself, boldly existing, in the space that's left for me. 

and that's why we're so unhappy.

deleted deleted
2 Responses Feb 23, 2009

Not wanting to bottle yourself is always applicable. That something you wrote over a year ago could be so relevant now is definitely amazing.

You have an incredible disdain for denying your feelings, angry or not. It is compelling.