architect

In the depths of my despair, I find solace in the ink that stains this page, A desperate attempt to release the anger that consumes me, locked in a cage. I struggle with the demons that reside within, a battle no one can see, But my best friend, she stands by me unconditionally. Her love, like a lifeline, keeps me afloat in this sea of self-doubt, Yet, I cannot comprehend why she doesn't turn away, why she doesn't shout. For I am a tempest, a storm that rages, leaving destruction in its wake, And she, the gentle breeze, always there, never willing to break. When my fury ignites, spreading through my veins, Her voice, soothes the flames, numbing all my pain. But the guilt that engulfs me, is a shadow I cannot outrun, For my anger lashes out at her, making her feel undone. I'm unsure why she stays, when I push her away time and again, Perhaps it's her unwavering faith, or the love that refuses to wane. But deep within, a voice whispers, "You don't deserve such devotion, For you are the architect of your own emotional commotion."