I'm boiling.
The littlest things flick the switch.
Impatience coursing through my veins,
welting like little bitter bullets
sent straight to the heart. I
swallow them whole
in an awkward embrace.
Mask the fury, the white anger.
The rod is in the trunk of the car.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
I'm boiling.
The littlest things flick the switch.
Impatience coursing through my veins,
welting like little bitter bullets
sent straight to the heart. I
swallow them whole
in an awkward embrace.
Mask the fury, the white anger.
The rod is in the trunk of the car.
