The Calm

The calm.
It comes after the rage.
During the rage, I am in my darkest place.
Despair reaches in and grabs ahold of my heart, of everything I hold dear.

Rip it out.
I want it ripped out.
I cry out loud, gasping, choking, trying desperately to rip it the fuck out.
I can't breathe, but I do.
The breath comes, again and again.

Until the calm.

My tears cease.
My breathing slows.

It all falls into place,
and it's all still there,
Different, yet still the same.

Underneath the calm.

“It is the calm and silent water that drowns a man.”
~African Proverb