Who Am I?

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Still hurting.
When will it stop?
Angry. Hurt. Lonely.
Tired. Overwhelmed. Triggered.
He’s finally moving out,
wanting to sort through
our years of life together,
our stuff.
I’m on edge.
I’m a caged animal,
hot, blinded with rage,
teeth bared, screaming,
throwing myself against
the bars of the cage,
hurting from the impact.
My thoughts are the cage.
My pain is the animal.
But who am I?

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