It's easier to quit smoking than to give up a grudge

The Resentments You Carry

You face an elevator

holding your resentments, 

grudges packed tightly,

angers folded neatly.

You put down the baggage,

press the button.

When the door slides open,

you step inside.

"I'm free," you say

as you speed up or down.

You think you know 

what floor you're on.

You lie, of course.

You feel the resentments

even closer to you,

next to your heart,

near where you breathe.