seething

It all seemed so good, so good I shut my eyes to listen to the song.
The song began to fade, I wondered why and opened my eyes, and then I saw.

There was no music for a long time, and without music this creature stews and becomes bitter.
But that seemed OK, since without my self-respect, why should I bother to budge, to suffer more so that I might again be happy.

I did the right thing, in letting it go. A Herculean event that drags on, even if I am beyond it now.
It bites at my heels, vexing me as I steer along this brighter path.

And I seethe when it rears and clamps on my ankle to destroy my amazing day, to drag me into the depths of it's dark soul. But if I do not seethe, sorrow and pity may weaken me and I will lose my grip on the trees along my path.

I want it to stop, yet the raw sewage that was us insists on seeping through the lushness of my brighter path. Ignorant, disgusting forces behind it.

Well fuck that. Time to put on thicker shoes and just keep going, because this is an amazing path and I will not let a little shit trip me up.