The Physical Mad

I’m angry. I need to be broken. I want, desperately, to be broken. 

I want to be run and pushed and forced

past the absolute point of exhaustion that I break.

That I fall on the ground in a wet, sweaty, sobbing heap.

I need to get the feelings out and the only way that’ll happen,

I’m afraid,

is if I’m broken.

Like a stubborn horse before joining up.

I want to beat something, or someone, up.

I want to physically wrestle someone

where I don’t need to worry about hurting them.

And they don’t need to be afraid of hurting me because it’s as necessary as breathing.

It’s part of the process.

Any volunteers?

I have so much anger inside of me.

So much mad and hurt.

I don’t know what to do with it.

I’m not sure where to hide it all.

The archives and back rooms of my heart are getting full.

It’s spring.

Maybe spring cleaning time?

Should I just set all my Mad out on the curb and tack a free sign to it?


-Cynic Ninja