"Anger"
His ears were open
But all she did was spit fire
Yet he still loves her
This is a poem for my spiritual guide Dean. I just got off the phone with him telling him about what is going on in the home. How misogynist and homophobic language is used in this household. How angry I am for currently being the product of my parent's socioeconomic mistakes, depsite me knowing the true politics behind their choices. How my parents rather ask me for what is due and not how I am feeling. How I eventually created my room to be a sanctuary for me instead of being downstairs like I used to. Even being angry for how my body is taking longer thn expected to heal......
Yet I cannot find solace in what is already provided. Granted, I am still angry and upset right now, but his words are sobering me up.
I am glad that he ended the conversation with a wonderful closing statement:
[Him] "Well, I am glad that you called me today. It is always good to hear your voice."
[Me] "Even if I am angry?"
[Him] "Even if you are angry. We will talk soon. Goodnight."
Goodnight.
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