They can't have it both ways, can they?

I prefer to vent in poetry form
It's not the best venue or even the norm

But it's my best way of calming the storm...

Allow me first to clarify my haste

Before another breathe does go to waste

I abhor most this sour after-taste

So here my venting must take wing to flight

Lest my spirit rage on against the fight

And one more word is uttered forth in spite...

* * *

I really did try telling everyone

Just how scary a place my mind could be

when left to discovery all alone

Do you think anyone listened to me?

Of course it got darker as I went deep

What did all of them expect me to see?

A calm ocean? An embankment un-steep?

Not the decaying dead pieces of me?

I never did like the dark very much

Anyone who knows me, knows this is true

Yet encouraged I went: “Look but don’t touch.”

Was this brilliant advice even thought through?

So here I stand, more confused than before

While criticisms begin to ensue

Wishing I had never opened this door

Only to hear, "What's the matter with you?"