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Uncertain News by winter-oleander

I am possesed of an urge
to throw something at you

To shriek
and scream
and howl
and wail

You have been unfair to me

And in spite of my rage and fear
for I know these are selfish of me
What you have been through is
undoubtedly much, much worse

I received only uncertainty from you
Unwelcome news that has made me hate you
Even though you and I both know
That I love you, Little Brother
Dear Friend

But you received that news first
And I know you must be afraid
Though you speak of the goodness
of pizza
And appear to be in a Good Mood

You must be afraid
Anyone would be in your place
But I know you very well
And I know that you prefer
to hide away in games
and shows
where I would hide in books
Just to escape the bigness
of that overwhelming, awful fear

There is none worse than it
except, perhaps,
for speaking before our peers
or to any large-ish crowd

But even in my sympathy
I am still possessed of an urge
to throw something at you
My voice, a shirt,
a bottle of water,
a shoe

I am still filled with fear
and so with anger
More than I've felt towards you
since that awful start
of what should never have been
between us, who are best as friends

I hate you, my sweet friend
My other little brother
I love you so much
And I am terrified

My heart races still
I feel stress in my cheeks
from my jaw clenching
from the ache of telling no one
what you have told me

I want to cry
but am afraid
I do not want the pain
I do not want to face the grief
And so it stays within me
Eating me up
like you do
your pizza

Perhaps it is best
that we live apart
so far away from one another
Were we closer,
I could comfort you
though I would cry, too
Assuming I would not
try to strangle you
for giving me that news

I feel sick now
For all this writing
In spite of it, rather
Even as I've vomitted it all up
Here on this screen
My fear and the anger
which tries to smother
its progenitor
tries to numb me to that which
makes me feel so ill

Even now, I shake
and hate
and love

I am so afraid
of losing you

But I'm helpless to do anything
I cannot save you
I cannot help you
I can only sit and fret
And feel sick with fright
And write about how
I am possessed of an urge
to throw my arms around you

Uncertain News

winter-oleander

I received some very worrying news from a friend today and I can't really talk about it with anyone since I got the impression it was something they'd rather I keep private. I ranted a little in my journal earlier, but I still feel pretty shaken up about it. Writing this helped some as I cried afterwards, which is always good, but I'm still feeling sick.

I hope you're going to be okay. You know who you are.

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Literary / Poetry / Lyrics

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