Out Grown You

Wild things aren't meant to be caged; they will grow angry and restless.

A self-inflicted wound,

This rage wishes to consume itself,

Not to fade to forgiveness;

That ship has sailed.

And burnt to the quick; leaving bridges behind, untouched.

 

And leave my poor bridges be,

They, they are escape,

Not capture,

They are freedom

 

And my freedom has no place for your forgiveness,

My rage drives you out,

I have no place for you,

I have burnt you off.

 

Teenaged angst;

You thought all was well,

But I seem to have outgrown you .

And my angst has grown too.

 

A caged in fight,

Wings broken and tattered,

Because yes, by God,

They were the only thing that mattered.

 

Having taken my freedom,

What was the point?

Could you use it better than I?

Would you try to control me by it?

 

You have no inkling,

Of that I am perfectly sure,

That taking me,

Does not equal having broken me.

 

This blood wound lends power,

Seeping out weakness and emotion,

Strength blooms a terrible flower,

Its beauty a staggering thing.

 

Just one more devastating spark,

One more enraged bloom,

One more angry word,

One more careless glance

 

And we all go up in flames,

My rage enough for the destruction of all.

 

Author's Note

ehmmm... any suggestions or advice or comments?