When you were a teenager and you would fly off the handle, I was always there to catch you. But I wasn’t there when the dog died, and you freaked out and spooked the neighbors. Yesterday somebody accidentally bumped into your car, and you were obliged to lose it again. I feared for your safety, because your voice was so hoarse from all the yelling. You know you should manage your anger–since you already have high blood pressure and an ulcer. I was hoping that you would’ve outgrown, being hot-headed by now. But when you get triggered, you transform into a walking time bomb. I worry because society won’t understand your struggle and will call out the rangers to defuse you. This isn’t amusing anymore, you need therapy–you can’t continue living in denial. Because if you can’t control your rage, you’ll be tased and put in a cage.
By: ElRoyPoet, 2020