Ode to Rage

Ah, rage. Where have you been? You came back so strong. So unfurled. Now, how often do you intend on enveloping me?
I love you and hate you. I feel so alive when I'm shaking with anger. But I also feel so unreachable, uncomprehended, outside of reality.

I have to feel something more intensely than you to push you away. My knuckles are bruised, my knee is strained, and my calves are throbbing. You left me panting and limp. Helpless, but so relieved.

And he didn't seem scared. Concerned, but not uncomfortable. He just let me get it out, and then let me fall asleep. He never told me calm down. Not once. By this, I know he understands. So very few do.

And the triggers? I think it's a build-up. I think I transfer sadness and disappointment into anger. It festers. Then the camel's back breaks, and I explode. It's such an intense inescapable feeling. Searching wildly for something to destroy. Like a crazed junkie. I try to hold onto reason, but if that energy is contained to long, I lose control.