Angry at nothing

If I get angry at my

Imagination,

If I get angry at my

Depression,

Am I angry at nothing?

If I get angry at a glance that may or may not be hurtful,

If I get angry at a game,

Am I angry at nothing?

If I’m angry at myself,

If it’s all in my head,

Am I angry at nothing?

If I’m angry at the things that will never change,

If I’m never alone, yet I’m lonely,

Am I angry at nothing?

These days, it seems I’m angry at everything.

Maybe too angry.

But I don’t know how to stop.

Once the thoughts flow,

I have to get them out any way I can.

If that means cut,

I cut. I just need

Someone to see, really see

What’s happening inside me.

My thoughts race like a run on sentence no punctuation needed,

All I have to do is

Break up the lines and it becomes a poem.

I think in rhymes, sometimes.

My thoughts make great poetry.

Now how to rid myself of the unceasing anger in me.

It boils, turns to hatred,

Stews and festers until someone gets hurt.

Sometimes, it’s me.

But it’s others I worry about.

How to rid myself of the anger,

The feeling of injustice that

Never seems justified.

Help me out

Of this angry cesspool I dug myself into.