Wet Anger

With the breaking of my heart
And the blinding of my eyes
There is nothing I cannot feel.
My nerves burn like coal,
Singeing at the tips
As my tears smother my skin
Seeking entrance to put out this flame
That roars within me.

Oh, how I long to beat your chest
And wet the laces of your new, posh shoes;
The ones you paraded, before we knew
That they stood for the change
Not one of us wished for.

Fear pulls at my eyelids begging for sleep
As if it were possible to wake up
From this newfound nightmare
And seek comfort from you.

But the flames can burn,
And I will pound at your chest
Whilst my own concaves
As the tears fall hard
But nothing will change.
And I suppose that is why I despair.

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