What Life Is

A Battle I Won't Win

I have come to realize that my anger does not know peace
Handling anger in a way that is healthy is absurd to me
Maybe it was my dad
Maybe his blind rage and fits of screaming taught me what I know
Maybe it was my mom
Maybe her passive aggressive behavior and condescending remarks taught me what I know
Maybe it was me
Maybe I am just an angry person

I don't cope well with much of anything
This is the absolute truth
I do not have the gift of coping skills
I feel pain to cope with pain
And I laugh and smile to hide that pain that I feel

The scars on my knuckles could tell stories
The scars on my hands
My wrists
My arms
My chest
My stomach
My legs
My feet
Those scars could tell someone more about how I handle things than I could
My scars tell a sad story
My scars sing a requiem
I can throw my hands into brick walls
I can look lovingly at crimson razor blades
I can feel the heat of all hell in the shower
But those things will always beat me
I will never win a battle with earthly things like those
The only battle here that I can even attempt to win is the one in which I am fighting myself
Even that battle feels impossible