my skin is starting to mist over
like a windshield in the pre-dawn freeze.
my anger is stale and cold,
just like it would be without fuel.

letting go is always the hardest part,
epecially when the cut still hasn't healed.

vengence is bitter without heat,
and violently spiced with it,
and i've let it sit while i contemplated perfection,
so long that it's left that disgustipating aftertaste.

i don't need this,
i'll leave it out of reach of children
before it frosts me over completely.

people may notice something's wrong.

09/12/2006

Author's Note: sarah davis' idea. a nice one, at that. thank you.

Posted on 09/12/2006
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