Rage

How’s it going today?

That's like asking that leaf “how’s it hanging?”

Rage.

Today I feel rage and should anyone cross me.

I doubt anyone could stop me.

Go ahead. I'll wait and watch while you try to fight back.

You can’t stop me once I’ve gone off, I can’t either.

I’m trying.

Trust me. I’m trying my damn near hardest.

Rage for me has always been a dance for me, one foot in front of the other.

I just started singing Fitz and The Tantrums.

Okay back to my story. My rage, it’s like a dance for me.

Trust me, I’m in no way shape or form saying this is a good thing.

But it's always ready. In my back pocket, ready to pull whenever I need it.

I think I’ve had to defend myself and my health so many times growing up.

Hearing bad news alone. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion for me.

My whole life I’ve been on defense. Ready when needed, boss.

Just say the words.

Like I said earlier, ever seen a bitch snap?

It’s scary. I wouldn’t want to fight me. Nope, No thank you.

I am getting help for the complex PTSD.

Trying my hardest to keep it under control. But when I just keep getting punched.

It’s hard. I have battle scars people haven’t seen. They are going, nowhere.

In the end it’s just in my nature to be a ram. I’ll fight you for my voice.

-ej