Weightless

Maybe the anger never comes when it should

but when the tension is over all of a sudden you can’t see clearly and in the middle of a peaceful gathering you must make some excuse to leave so you can punch your soul out on a rock somewhere until it bleeds. Let yourself punch, but sit in the quiet cool air afterward and let go—of the shouldn’ts and the shoulds, of what you deserved and what you got instead—and let it all fly away, like an offering, and leave you quiet.

Maybe the heaviness never comes when it should

but deep and inconsolable it comes in the middle of the night and you wake gasping for air. Let yourself gasp, but when the morning comes hold the weights in your hands and release them one by one—and watch them float heavenward, like a prayer, and leave you free.

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