my anger at first hand has always
been biting vicious words, i pull back
the bowstring immediately, a wild shot,
wind with all directions, a wild one,
that’ll be me to eternity, a cold one;
it’s an arrow that breaks halfway,
hits the ground with a dull thud,
pointless, make hurt an armor,
give it something protective
to self-harm, to self-hate;
pointless, here’s when the eye
zooms in closer, focus rising,
aim and logic pointing forward,
it’s really the only way to go;
anger can dissipate, wild doesn’t
have to be tamed, it just needs
a home and some fucking love,
let me shoot you an arrow
and i’ll show how true my aim is,
full of heart, down the middle,
i was always in the middle,
but now… now i see.
i’ve hit bullseye this time.
make hurt an armor,
let it be born again
as true strength.


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