hurricane [you]

i'm glad that i've progressed to the point where i can recognize a trigger and deal with it.

that i am well past the place where i would call an innocent man and completely kirk out on him.

that i can write a poem, talk to a friend, or cry instead.

but i wonder how many women* stay stuck in that place where, if someone hits that nerve, they turn into a hurricane of fury and pain.

every time i see a hapless looking dude getting cussed out in the street, i wonder.

is she really yelling at him?

or is she yelling at her father?
her rapist?
the dirty old man at the corner store?
the disappointment?
the dude who left her semi-homeless and with children to feed?
her mother?
the grandmother who raised her but obviously didn't want to?

who are we truly angry with?
who can we forgive?
what do we do with the pain they leave behind?



*of course this can apply to people in general.