I argue when I should listen
I become defensive when I should soften
I shoot out aggressive words when I should hold my tongue
I impinge when I should grant space
I know better but I do not do better
I am aware of my problems but cannot seem to control
the impulses that rise within me
Cannot break down the controlling urge
that suffocates the
beauty around me
Cannot create radical change by
willing it to be so
Cannot break the patterns that have
railroaded over
all the beautiful flowers
stems bent, petals wilting
crushed,
just trying to breathe