Black
mourning clothes
they say grief
is hidden under all the anger
so I keep following the anger
like some miserable rainbow
to the pot of gold
of grief
at the end
Will I ever find it?
the anger ebbs
but then there is numbness
nothingness
Black
like bitter coffee
is there only stains at the bottom of the mug?
I wince and sip
it's lukewarm now
is there grief at the bottom?
And if there is
what then?
will I merely trade anger
for tears?
Haven't I cried enough?
Where do I find healing?
I long to say I'm past it
to wear the colors
ditch the black
but the dreams keep coming
the anger flows back
What do you do when you long for God's wrath
instead of his mercy?
I am ashamed to want it
for the ones who have betrayed me
The Jesus answers come swiftly
but those answers
do not drain
the cisterns
of my anger.
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