Disha Shree

February 3, 2007- India

Turning The Ache To Anger

My mind became an icy wasteland,
The wind howled in my soul,
They wrapped their tentacles so tight,
My heart stopped beating at all.

The feeling was like emotional bankruptcy,
The void enveloped my mind in swirling black,
My dreams and hopes annihilated with the pain,
Me adept at hiding my broken insides? Not at all.

Then the fear and anticipation grabbed me by tongue,
Dried my mouth, and punched my soul,
As of now, I am used to it,
For each victory made it easier to stop the howl.

Now the anger builds up like steam,
Pressing the walls of my brain,
The hatred, the aggression, the pain, and apprehension,
Rolled and intertwined into a migraine.

It's the vexing of the soul; the swelling of my veins,
It's like the rushing of the blood to my head,
Tossing and frowning, battling and beating,
Saying things, I would rather leave unsaid.

For now the pain has numbed,
It no more hurts,
The stoicism plastered in my face,
Every time, all I say is-
"I'm stronger with the hate you give,"
And I walk away with grace.
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