Tag Archives: anger

Self preservation

Don’t be nice.

Being nice is the most
damaging thing in
the world you can
do to yourself.

Yes, people will think well of you
if you’re nice.
If they think of you at all.

See, nice is forgettable.

Nice agrees to everything.
Nice hurts nobody.
Nice doesn’t lose his shit.
Nice turns the other cheek.

Don’t turn the other cheek.

Hit back hard enough
to break the other
person’s jaw.

Not only does it
help you make the point,
It’s also deeply satisfying.

Learn to say no.
Learn to stand up for yourself.
Learn to not give a fuck.

Do that and you will still
have a modicum of life.

Be nice
and the world
will fuck with you
and walk all over you
till you drug or drink
yourself to death
just trying to deal
with it.

I’ve had enough family
and friends in rehab to
know that the middle finger
is only way back to sanity.



There is a thief in my

Stealing my sleep,
my peace, my

It’s an anger
without a name.

Slinking in at will to
pillage my feelings,
rob my emotions,
sack my sanity.

I try to forget.
I try to forgive.
A thousand things.

But then I remember
a thousand more.

And the plunder
begins afresh.

Easy with that rage

Anger is a fire
that you must always
use to forge a better you.

Use the fire of your
rage to melt the bars
of weakness that imprison you.

Be furious only with yourself.
At your own goddamned laziness.
At your own stupid insecurities.
At your own pathetic neediness.

Be angry.
and use that anger.

To burn away your dross.
To torch away your  baseness.

The only person
worth being angry
about is yourself.

It’s wasted on others.

You don’t have to

What we have
is based on respect.

You don’t have to meet me.
You don’t ¬†have to reply to
my messages.
You don’t have to
take my calls.
You don’t have to sleep with me.

There is no ‘have to’.
We are lovers, remember?
There is only ‘want to’.

I want to daydream about you.
I want to hear your voice.
I want to eat you mouth.
I want you in my arms.

All the time.

Not out of any.
sense of obligation.
Or duty.

Everything I do, I do
because I want madly,
deeply, absolutely to do it.

Please never take
me for granted.

Don’t disrespect
my concern for you.

If I even sense that
I will forget you
before you reach the end
of this shitty little


On your engagement

A post on Facebook
informed me today
that you got engaged.

To some loser.

The kind you are so
good at finding.

I was surprised by the
range of emotions
coursing through me now
– from outrage,
to disappointment to
a sense of irreparable loss.

Like the way I’d feel
if I read someone
bought the fucking
Taj Mahal.

You are monumental, babe!

I can not believe you
agreed to be somebody’s
private property.

No one can or should
try to own you.

You know more than anyone
else how ill suited
you are for the outmoded
institution of marriage.

You, who can get bored
of anything in about ten
seconds flat, settling
for ‘happily ever after’?

The only girl
I know who could
pop three acid tabs
without a second
thought, doing
veggie shopping?

Are you kidding me?

You are too wild in
your heart to be

Please don’t get me wrong.
I wish you well and all that.
I wish I could wish you get old
and toothless with this
particular chump.

But it seems highly unlikely.

I give the whole thing a year.
Two at most.

And hope to meet you
sadder but wiser,
older but available,
divorced but happy
on the other side.

In the meantime,


I’m not good
at this ‘losing gracefully’
business at all, am I?

Just asking

How can you unravel
the angry, tangled ball
that I am,
with such ease?

How do you know that
the only way to
un-clench the clenched
fist of anger is to pry
open each
finger with a kiss?

Starting with the
little finger?

How do you know
me so well?

Is it because you are
as tangled as me?

Wound tighter with
each wound an unforgiving
life inflicts?

Is it because are as
thin-skinned as me?

Is it because everything
hurt you too?

How do you know
me so well?

Also, where the hell
were you
all my life?