I’m from darkness, anger, and hate,
from a wrong choice made by two fools,
from a family held together by deception.

I’m from fear of the warden that ran my life,
from a man who used exercise as punishment once we knew abuse,
from pushing one last time as the blood from the burst vessel filled my eye.

I’m from two people determined to make the other worse,
from the man who locked his drunk wife out of the house,
from the woman who threw her phone at his head.
I’m from the family that split apart after ten years of torture,
from the sides that formed after the divorce,
from three brothers whose only bond was blood.

I’m from the forest behind the house,
from the beauty of nature that kept the anger at bay,
from the years learning to build a moral cage to lock in the beast.
I’m from the day I lost control of my anger,
from the time I nearly put hands on my own brother,
from the strength I found to redirect it into the wall.

I’m from the time spent questioning who I was,
from realizing each person chooses that answer,
from the oasis of rage I am capable of hiding.

I’m from hoping my rage will never show itself,
from knowing what lurked below the surface,
from the fear of what one day could come.