What If Anger Doesn't Become You

I remind myself over and over again in my head, each sentence saying the same exact thing, yet strung together like little paper cutout children, we used to be. Now I am aged, flinching even more at starling noises, and words that I do not like, nor wish to hear. I tell myself that to live inside of anywhere else, would be so much easier than this. I can't look my dad in the face, and I can't help but shake and shake. My brother, he stomps around, rattling my whole world, and it means nothing to him. He screams as loud as he can, and I am still hearing nightmares and dreams too loudly, the two clash in my head and make my stomach sick. People say blind with anger, out of mind with anger, and what would he be without anger? It all made me think about how rage is so visible, so obviously in the air, and felt, and fought with. I do not identify with rage, or anger, I do not know it well inside of me, though so much more than most, when it is in front of me. I thought about if anger were replaced with varying emotions, like it sometimes is. Not in the way that anger is blocked out and something is felt in its place, but rather something is felt appropriately, but to the extent that anger is. I feel everything in the same velocity that my brother does, it consumes us, affecting everything, every word. We believe that anger is the strongest emotion, the most potent, dramatic. A person may say love, but besides the cloudy eyes, I see not a single person living through love. I tried to find a sentiment that ravaged me, filled my insides in the same way that anger could, confusion was the first thing that came to mind, in my present state. Where I am getting with all of this is perhaps someone we know or spend time with, even a loved one, could be taken way by an emotion that we are not even so much aware of them possessing. I watch my brother, I watch rage become him. I do think about him, I think about him a lot, but what have I become?