fff#46

a shift from where my mind been lately; changing gears; raw sooncome...my flash fiction friday #46; [inclusions] trigger: maul, [maw/moor], more, mourn

rage endures. burns hard+bright but then can boil down and simmer silently until provoked to lash out, and when them blows come, is big men getting mauled. when you take+take, whatever it is that grinding you, that burning you, that making you bite down too hard too long, grows...anger blossoming at the corruption at every level, the apathetic and self-serving government officials, growing crime rates and decreasing detection+enforcement rates, sexism, racism, bigotry in every flavour, wilful ignorance, the needless, commonplace violence+brutality, mismanagement+waste of our natural+human resources, deterioration of our education system and our homes and our families as them we put on top show us with their selfish and unpatriotic actions time+time again: nothing here worth caring about...we not people worth saving...
sadness too...for the loss of a place with such potential; for squandering paradise...just because i doh mourn the same [way] as you doh make me immune to our losses; grief is something we each survive alone. people can help, bring distraction or brief comfort, but they cannot live inside you and brighten that dead place.
and the rage there in the sorrow too, too tired to show but bubbling under the surface still; unless the source is dealt with, anger festers+seethes; might stay quiet for a time but it still feeds, swallows more of you, takes over more of you until you find instead your head in the dragon's maw awaiting the deal with the devil to save you from your own wrath. until you find yourself out in the road, dress raised, panty expose to the universe, because to wine on them seem the only recourse left when they doh listen to we voices, to the gunfire, to our failing systems, to sense...
we feel abused+ignored. i feel abused+ignored, and out of options. i feel my moorings coming loose, my sense of myself in this place shaken, and that should never be. this place is myself. supposed to be myself...
maybe the problem is we doh know weself no more...

walk good.