She lashes out with her razor sharp and angry nails
At anyone or anything that moves
Concealing her hurt… she expresses her rage
Not realizing all rage is nothing more than pent up pain
She uses expletives as verbs
She feels she derives some satisfaction from creating action
Not to mention friction
Although in her mind she has very few moving parts
As she is paralyzed with fear
A fear of being loved by another stranger
In the darkest room of all
Her head
Her arms bear the marks of the damage done
Her many lovers have left their bloody tracks
And she has followed every one of them
To Hell and back
She lies awake at night
Afraid to close her naked eyes
Afraid to see the dark
That has become her hollow hole and heart
A grave within a grave
A soul without a soul...
2007 © T Sheridan
Ted Sheridan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-pain-and-anger-has-its-own-zipcode/
