In that moment she transforms
Unquenchable pressures rise
Rage flares into firestorms
Fury thrives, amplifies

She dances on recent slights
Flinging words of blistering flame
Fires fuelled from yesterday’s fights
She wields with unerring aim

When the fury burns to embers
When logic eventually returns
No one left remembers
The cause of her righteous burns

NCL May 2018

I'm a quiet woman.
A dangerous one at that.
Give me love, and it's dangerous
for a woman like me.

I don't burn men;
I don't provoke women.
I don't mount weights on my shoulders,
I don't move castles just for myself.

I'm a quiet woman.
A dangerous one,
that once you give me love,
I will swallow lit matches
into my gas-filled lungs
and breathe fire
to my terrible world
to burn, burn, burn
and rub ash on my skin,
hoping it will fix my aching heart.

Hope peace for a dangerous woman like me.
Hope nothing else will fall apart.

I circle around the halo
That stirs what lies below.
Spinning now
Only excess
materialises in belief form.
What is it about the chimera you construct
For those that don’t exist?
Gasping and grasping on
Slivers from a murdered past
You insist on perfecting gems in souls
Where there are none.
Let it rest my friend … or not
For the fury of Zenobia
Is still lighting
What remains of your life
And mine.

why wait
for the pain
for someone to hurt you

when you can hurt them first?

When you learn
To scream
At the pain
At the anxiety
At the depression
At everything that broke you
When you can be angry at it all
It turns into passion
And it feels exquisite
Because finally
When all you’ve felt
Is sadness
Is stress
Is numbness
You start feeling
Strong
Courageous
Powerful
Because you can focus
Everything in you
Into a passionate fury
Directed at the darkness

Your words are like the tail of a scorpion,
Your deeds like the fangs of a snake,
Your touch like the sting of a bullet ant,
Your presence like being surrounded by hellfire.

You're satan's little helper.