Poetry: Temper Weather

Dedicated to the moving force of my life.

Poetry by Vladimir Fischer

Photo by Zetong Li 

“That way I know I’m still alive…”

My weakness is my temper,
it’s fast to blast
but feels heavy in the hand
as you tell me words
filled with biting truth and wounding facts;
fury now mutated in its track
now blushing cheeks, apologies there is.

I’ll tell you a secret,
I enjoy the electricity of anger
as your inners buzz like a factory within
producing fumes and sparks;
oh, that’s life, that’s called living
like a cold shower in the morning
a tsunami for the blood inside.

That way, I know I’m still alive,
still functioning somehow,
imagining color all around
instead of dull grey with pain,
my blurry vision in the dark
escaping the deep vain.

Poetry by Vladimir Fischer

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