POETRY: Screaming into the {Light}

I screamed in a dark room.

I felt it in my toes,

echoing in my chest,

vibrating up and out of my throat.

Suddenly the room wasn’t dark anymore—

It was pink

and green

and yellow

and blue

My rage consumed me and then became its own form of energy,

light bulbs positioned in the darkness,

pushing out the darkness in a rainbow

And the rage left.

It left my body and it lit up the bulbs in the dark room and I was left

With relief.

The scream left my body and turned into magic.

But if magic is lighting up a room with your smile,

then lighting up a room with your scream must be more like witchcraft

So then all the women who died, lit up on a pyre, screaming into the night—

begging for a god that wasn’t there,

a friend who couldn’t save them—

They scream through me now.

I want to make the world better for us, but all I have is hot air.

Screaming out a car window,

with hundreds of other people all feeling the same rage and relief—

“We beat back tyranny!”

For now

And I want to let it all go—

to move on,

to check my vibe—

but my rage is the only power I have left.

Back in the room lined with bulbs, their light begins to fade,

And the room dims back to darkness.

I was frightened of it before,

but now I know if I open my mouth,

I’ll find comfort, relief—

Rage,

Relief;

Rage,

Relief.

Maybe my screams only serve to make me feel better.

Maybe my screams will propel me through to the light at the end of the tunnel.

Maybe my screams are lighting the tunnel.

And maybe you can hear them, and you scream too.

And then we both feel better,

Until we have everyone screaming,

And the dark room is bright with the rainbow—

The wattage bright,

the catharsis powerful.

Maybe the thing that makes the world better for us isn’t me,

It’s you.