I don't think you truly get it.
Your anger seeps from your body
Like poisonous fumes,
Polluting the air around us.
Nuclear fuse sparked by
Minor inconvenience,
With the carelessness of
Politicians when it comes to the
Lives at stake from your meltdown.
Anger; the heat that doesn't physically
Burn, but you can feel that fire
In the knots in your stomach.
Anger; the (sometimes) silent fighter.
Fists met with doors, walls, structures
All designed to crumble, just like you have.
Anger; you are quick to embrace her,
Like a lost lover, she'll bring chaos.
Maybe you miss the wilderness.
You could roam and growl as you so pleased,
But you have been caged for too long.
I don't think you truly get it,
How frightening you have become.
My birth control is making
Me crazy again.
Breakdown, rage, comfort,
Repeat. Repeat.

Like clockwork,
I have to remind myself that
"I'm no monster", "it's the hormone",
"I swear I still crave you".

My love for you is
A radiant bloom, being
Suppressed and bullied by the
Bushes bearing thorns.

My hatred for you is
The shell of the bird that
Traps the life inside, leading
It to claw it's way out to breathe.

Wait for me to emerge,
My shell is holding me back
As a safety protocol.
I have not been born yet.
"Ha, I thought you might"

You think about me.
You remember things about me.

Acknowledgement by someone
who's godly.

My heart playing some sick trick on my brain,
("Ha, I thought you might")

April Fools.
Foot tap,
pencil chewed down to the core.
Focus, it will come.
Awaken the beast.
Tremors and quakes rattle this
vessel of flesh like
a storm that ravages the
spring sky. You do the same to

me. Fingertips like
cold raindrops trace my landscape,
I'm electrified.
Quiet moan breaks the silence;
every cell has come to life.
You bathe at night; soak
in the indigo twilight.
Exhausted from the
overload of emotion,
the lunar light cleansed your soul.

Charming and cunning,
like the lion, you stalk your
prey. Find the weakness
and exploit it; start the fire,
and then claim your innocence.

You are the end and
beginning of the cycle.
Take the heat, and rise from the
ashes in your final form.

Water bearer, you
bring life to this alien
landscape. Barren and
undiscovered, this is your
chance to change the world. Long live
your work of innovation.

Tree branch rib cage and
ivy veins that nurture your
winter-bitten soul.
Precious sunlight has returned;
your garden will bloom again.

The war going on
inside your brain is growing
tiresome. Your strength
is that of the ram, but you
can't always be the hero.

Submersion. Scared and
eye-level with the Angler.
Take pleasure in the
aesthetic. Perhaps a change
of perspective was needed.

Sagittarius (Father Jupiter Would Be So Proud):
Goddess of the hunt,
your need for adventure and
fearless heart combines
and incarnates the wander-
lust warrior that you are.

Eyes like a doe; she
is wise, nurturing, and vast.
Motherly strength is
the coat worn over bared bones
and bruised knees. She's her own crutch.

Neither side of your
scale may touch the ground.
Chaos may welcome
you with open arms, but she
will grow cold and deranged, love.

Though you are stubborn,
your heart is made of feather,
you fierce, burly ox.
Romantic and devoted,
the darkness in you is gold.

Gemini (The Twin Flame):
How exciting and
infuriating it must
be to look in the
mirror to face your best friend
and your greatest enemy.
What's your sign? Can you relate to any of these?
I remember pressing my
innocent ears to the mouths
of discarded seashells, just to
hear their secrets; and I shared mine.
They told me secrets in the form of
ocean waves and whispers of wind
between the fingers of the palms.

On days that I feel the world
crumbling and combusting
around me, I press my wiser
ears to the same lips that kept
all my secrets safe. I remember
the advice seashells gave to a
young girl who'd felt discarded.
Be like the ocean, let it flow.
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