RAGE

RAGE – a poem

Rage.

It burns under my skin.

It fills up my throat and threatens to erupt in screams.

Rage.

It wants me to yell, scream, swear and throw things.

Rage.

It makes me feel powerful enough that I can breathe flames and roar so the whole world can hear me. 

Rage.

It is a gift.  

It tells me when I need to do something for me and signals when I may be overgiving or forgetting to take care of my own needs.

Rage.

It scares me and empowers me all at once.  

Rage.

It gave me the energy and power to re-order my website today instead of being such a victim to my circumstances.

Rage.

It came to me today to say, “hey you chose to make lunch for your family right when you were in the middle of something that you were really enjoying.  You can chose you first, your family knows you love them to the farthest reaches of the universe.”

Rage.

My friend.  My guide.  

A censored part of me that I really want to get to know better.

Rage.

Hey Rage…I want to hang out with you and really get what you’re here to teach me.

Want to be a more welcome and included part of my life, instead of being relegated to the deepest, darkest parts of myself that I never visit?

Do you want to explore together so we can both life in more balanced and healthy and empowered ways?  

Ya?  

Awesome.  

Thanks Rage, you’re the best.  I don’t know why it took me so long to get you and to really feel and hear you.  

Thanks for waiting for me.  

A note from me about this poem: It felt so good to write this. It felt good to acknowledge my rage and to get to know it better the more words I wrote. I really look forward to honoring my feelings of rage more and to make space for me to feel them. Okay, I may also be looking forward to throwing some sticks on my abundantly large property where no one can get hurt. May we all be open to what our emotions, even the unpleasant ones, are here to teach us. Big hugs!

© Bradlee Zrudlo 2022. All Rights Reserved.