This anger lives in my shoulders
Tight and hot
Wound up too tight and the crank keeps turning
It lives in my sternum
It lives in my lungs
It lives in my neck
It exits through my fists
I wish they were hitting bone and making screams instead of a green cushion in a closet
I wish I could
I wish she would
I wish a lot of things
The bridge back to her will be build on his mangled throat
And I'll be crowned with the sick satisfaction of knowing I was right all along
And I will be robed in "I told you so"
And this anger will fly away, bird free,
Soaring like a hawk
With correctness in it's talons