The next move
Is physical
Force
Altercation
The final
Is my
Boiling point
Aggravation
Approaching
Eruption
Too placid
To burst
And confronting it only
Just making it worse
So let passive aggressive
Gestures
Be the first
Move we make
To reiterate I
From formality break
Want you gone
Seethe with hate
As I see through your face
Cherished memories
Perish
Your life,
A disgrace
The potential I formerly saw
Laid to waste
You’re pathetic,
A pitiful,
Peasant
Peon
And now all I look forward to
Day that you’re gone