The Art of Anger

I have such pretty words sometimes,
But the truth is most often dark and dirty.

Today my anger has come to the surface - 

Not out, but bubbling up in my conscious. 

When I was in high school I got incredibly angry,

Mostly in interactions with my father,

And in recurring moments I was out of my body,

Looking down upon myself as if I was a separate entity. 

I didn't know what to do with it then,

And I still don't know what to do with it now.

I am at least in therapy again;

I just hope she can help me.