There is this side
To me—
To us all, perhaps—
That wants
unfettered
Freedom.
To rip off my clothes
To unleash
The savage
Beast.
To rise high—
Hard—
Ready to fuck
Things up.
To shout out
With thunder—
FUCK—
Fuck you.
Fuck me.
Fuck all,
You see?
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
And if one doesn’t love it,
Mother fuck fuck!
Wow. I guess I just
Got
That
Out.
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: June 19th, 2025 07:49
- Comment from author about the poem: Sometimes catharsis can come out in one word.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments3
Yes....yes... YES!!! There is indeed that subtle murmur of something rumbling, shifting, rising, struggling, trying to force its head above the murky waters of whatever, to breathe, inhale deep, purifying mouthfuls of air. Yet, the age-old question: HOW? Gorgeously rendered with excellent imagery and an irresistible poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
Here is a raw, primal, and defiantly honest poetic equivalent of a scream into the void—part rage, part release, and completely unapologetic. There’s something universally human about that moment of boiling over and finally letting it rip, no filter, no finesse. Just truth, snarling and unshackled.
A poem that screams out in frustration, anger, rage. And after a quieting the catharsis. Well done
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