there lives a dragon in my kitchen
cracks are like veins along the
yellow walls from his nightly
fleeting race to nowhere.
my eyes find themselves
black whilst my mind treads
eager
crawling
down the yellow wall
to meet my king.
what bright color stains my eyes
but fluttering dragon registers in his
bitter, cradled ego.
my husbands solar flare
is kin to the fire from his jaws
which tears and burns around my throat
and sears away my aching self-compassion.
what beast awaits the cry
trapped between my fingers...


i hope he doesn't swallow it too.