Rage

rage looks like unsigned emails,
sounds like distant banter from our telephony-communication
looks like people who brought you to where you are
tastes like anger, death, and just a bit of prayer.
It can be found beside a church
On your bed, as you try to catch a moment
In the glint of friendly eyes
In despairing hopeless romanticism
Enveloped in the arms of consolation
Holding hands with giving up.

it feels like tearing paper
from inside
from out.
all together now.