this is my angry face, borne of my angry list
of the little insignificant things that have
gone wrong in my week, day, and deflated soul
that used to be a happy full circle but now
is just a dented almost-heart, a crushed oval
because the eyes i’m wearing right now suck,
they outline all the things that i’m not and
don’t have, all the things that have fallen
through, all the hopes that are turning to a
moldy growth and i am remembering again what
it is to despise (i am despising this list),
that tree called contempt is creeping its
branches, darkening my overhead sky and
this is my angry face, borne of my angry list
of all the promises-not-yet-here that i’m tired
of waiting-in-faith-patiently and longsufferingly
for, all those words not falling to the ground
hovering like schizo hummingbirds around my head
while i watch those promises landing in the laps
belonging to the hands that’ve held tender hearts and
bludgeoned them with a stick, screwdriver or sword,
hands that’ve used hearts as punching bags and
scapegoats just to not see the reality of their own
bleeding broken walls being broken bent blistered;
and i’m tired of always having to be just rightly
in position for the blessing or just so aligned,
when did we become a place where we had to be PC
in order to be loved, chosen, blessed and holy
when i just want to be real, sane, honest and here
facing my angry face borne of my stupid angry list
and at the very least be unafraid to admit that
sometimes, sometimes, it’s not a demon i’m fighting,
it’s not some goblin, troll, dragon or 3-headed dog,
but it’s my own damn fearful selfishness borne of a
shrinking hurting heart hiding behind an angry face
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