Rage

Never before have I raged.
Yet I find myself, fist to the sky,
raging over perceived injustices where no one can see me.
My left wrist throbs from squeezing the blue jelly wrist saver in front of my computer too tightly,
and I imagine escaping to the batting cages to hit and hit and hit-

Why now, Rage?
No one is hurting me.
Why now, Rage?
If they do, they don't mean it.
Why now, Rage?
You have never before haunted my door but, suddenly, here you are,
full fledged, as if to make up for lost time.