Ire

 

I was eating anger by the spoonful, stuffing it into my mouth with unwashed hands, greedily swallowing without chewing, starved of life force, smearing my face, not caring what it looked like, eating, stuffing, swallowing, until I could feel the sadness subside.

I am at peace

Todays prompt at octpowrimo.com was black. It’s one of my favourite colours to wear, and charcoal is a wonderful medium to work with. Even with all these happy associations with black, I ended up writing a darker poem. I’ve written aplenty about depression, so there’s more blackness if you like.

5 thoughts on “Ire

  1. Dawn D

    I love this poem Angela. Even though it’s dark, I love all the images you convey through the words you chose.
    And the idea that one can erase sadness with stuffing oneself with anger and attain peace is… unfortunately not true, but something we try too often, no matter how many times it fails.
    XO

    Reply

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