Anger!

5/26/24

Bigger things show themselves clear
when torn from the tongue,
then out into the air.
A shout, a silence, a smack,
a double go-fuck-yourself
then a toilet bowl tear drop
for those withum a fuse
runs short, so fast,
so long, I say
when the words meet the breath
a mouth so desperately express
hate in child-tense,
to be heard — immature —
word for word, in pain,
you’ll get what you deserve.
Mouth protrude comic-wise,
cartoon-font style. Let out
whatever, whatever-um it go,
then inhale an “uh,”
then watch it float
from nose to tip of tongue
it jude the crater in place
of where the soul once was,
then a silent, or a smack,
then a shout, then a double go-fuck-yourself!
Then your immature ass goes back on the words.
You crash HARD! on the past, child-like.
I decide,
not to pass the hate you so despise,
so “sorry,” I lie, deep breath, move on, and “uh!”
like that. We’re back. We’re good.
No really. We’re good.
We’re good.