The Scream


I remember I felt like screaming
With everything I was like an atavist
At the top of my lungs as if going to war.

Maybe it would scare those feelings away
Just maybe I could drown the melancholy in rage
Deafen it and leave it shaken in its silence.

I wanted to forget that I had a heart
To let go of cascading inadequacy and breathe
To for once feel like I wouldn’t always be a stranger.

What if for once the smiles weren’t empty
And I, without escaping into the vicarious,
Could avoid the cavitating grasp of loneliness.

How readily would I bend a knee to that strange alter
Where far from the empty promises of salvation
I might find some semblance of normalcy

But I can’t
And they weren’t
And I couldn’t

So I Screamed.

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