who is the stranger with the anger in her bones,
who finds hiding places in oversized sleeves
and tension in the clenching of her jaw.

chipped teeth cannot cause the damage they seek;
like chipping bark off of the still, silent trees
and walking away feeling easy and free.

but those who are beloved are blameless.
discarded gum pulses on the pavement,
drying there long past tasteless.

but anger only rots under your skin
once exposed flesh adopts shame once again.