My inner wild child

My inner child

is wild, angry and more than a bit

crazy.

She sits well with rage.

The rage I cannot tell.

The kind which feels unlawful

so I hide it well.

 

I hide it beneath

piles of dirty blankets

inside my mind.

I try to smother this rage

deep inside, with the hopes

it will not eat at me

from the inside out.

I hide my anger well-

I cover it with doubt.

 

My inner child, she’s a wild thing.

She deals with all

of my secret pain,

so that I can begin again.

 

They say certain nasty

words about angry women.

It’s as if anger is never allowed.

 

I want to be the “nice girl”.

I want to be polite.

I want to fit in

and never start any fist fights.

 

But despite it all

deep within

my inner child she is ranting and raving

eager to escape at my seams,

she swallowed a sky of my

emotions and I watch

from a safe distance

 

as she erupts

like a volcano

into my dreams.

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