my therapist says if i have a memory it is good to write it down, talk about it next session. just felt like sharing.
Will it always be like this?
The battle never wholly won.
Fighting demons inside myself,
all because of his selfish hand.
"They" tell me life is too short
to keep holding onto the rage.
But in my life,
the Rage was the only constant feeling
I could recognize.
I don't understand, but it is there.
Rage, lying dormant in
the pit of my stomach.
Waiting, writhing, always lurking...
until the day i left,
I finally threw it up in his face.
As he grabbed my arm,
I felt his desperation.
His mind was racing,
conjuring up ways to keep me there.
And I pulled away, pushed
him through the door.
That didn't stop Rage, it is a never ending
pool in me.
Noone ever said "Good for you"
So, now I'm saying it.
Good For Me.