Two Thousand Leagues

 

Catharsis does not work.

I scream and scream

But do not feel any lighter.

Sure, hot air continues to escape

From my vocal cords and 

Out through my mouth,

But I feel heavier and heavier

With each cutting insult I deliver.

My temples hurt as if 

I am two thousand leagues 

Below the sea's surface,

And the pressure is getting to be too much.

Because it is.

In my finger tips and through my legs,

I feel the pounding of my heart,

Like it fractured and dispersed,

Sending a bit of itself in 

Every which way.

My abdomen and my neck hurt

After being clenched,

Even after the yelling has ended.

Though the battle has expired,

The smoke does not clear.

It never does.

There is always a haze 

Clouding visibility,

Muting each others' words,

Encircling each of us

Until we are separated,

Even if we are two feet apart.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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