For some the pain of frustration leads to a tumult
of tantrums and a verbose vomit spewing of anger and hate.
Shattering the heart – yet building walls.
Constructed by cold avoidance and confusion,
yet picked away by a romantic gesture or two.
A fickle memory born of words better left unsaid.
Heavy hands upon a tender child desiring mother’s love.
Perhaps ones formative years indeed defines today.
Fragility’s rage
is a tortoise in its shell
When danger comes, pull in, don’t run like hell.
Flashbacks and words fall upon that shanty,
Accusations now muffles within the cramped cavity.
But when no one is looking fragility’s rage
is like a magicians token quote,
“no you see me, now you don’t.”
teachquelle 