Cancerous Grief Poem by grace mariner

Anger born of pain is misnamed.
It is not anger in its purest sense,
escalating to a thundering crescendo and dissolving
into the universe where all angry words go to torment
the angels.
No, it is a misnomer, misdiagnosed in its staging.
Insidious, it creeps in, infiltrating healthy
emotion.
Its acuity is labile.
Its intensity varies,
changing from moment to moment,
exacerbated by a memory or the words to a song.
Anger born of pain lingers and strikes
when least expected.
It grows and matures as it is a stage of growth
in the lifespan of grief.