Anger possesses no logic,

but owns a mind of her own,

sharing with me imaginative situations

compelling me to believe

they will occur.

That I need to act fast,

chase the demons in my life away,

eradicate structures I’ve built

for they are now (supposedly) injurious

to my well-being.

Anger expects me to believe her,

as she takes up residence in my mind,

assuming that I don’t mind,

that I know she is just a friend

passing by.

It is so easy to allow her to visit,

and share her two cents with me,

but one too many flare ups

lead me to doubt her sincerity,

and veracity.

So I show anger the door,

she is aghast, in shame,

her stories no longer held in esteem,

but exposed for the fictitious reality,

they have always been.

Thankful that I can sweep up the ashes

that anger has left,

I have difficulty with the lingering dust,

how do I differentiate anger

from reality?