Under my breath, steam rises slowly from a simmering wrath that is about to blow. And through clenched teeth many quiet curses seep, as false calm on the surface is hard to keep so, I bide my time, yes, okay... I'm fine... I'm Fine.
But behind this mask of polite restraint, my frustration boils, and my patience is faint. I am a pressure cooker set to burst, as passive-aggressive pleasantries conceal the worst until I am truly overcooked.