I am afraid
of his mumblings
in the dark
and
under his breath
they disturb me
like
small shocking punches
to my chest
as he punches
his fists
against his own hands
I wonder if policing his anger is the same as he policing my sorrow
I wonder if this is just how we process the pleasant and the unpleasant
our very own personal light and dark
we've all got to process through the shit
to come out on the other side
still whole
-why you mad bro?