nerve fibre

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nerves on constant fire... irritation

anxious twitching

fingernails tapping against the wooden desk

I’m not angry _ it’s a mood, a feeling

a rash that I just can’t scratch _ do you know that motion?

it starts in the body, it tenses so badly _ but starts in you $%^&* soul

I’m not angry, I’m not

I’m furious to my last piece of s c r e a m s , body loud

can’t let go, wanting to hit something

it will pass, I know it always does, trust me I know

Broken glass makes a delightful sound, it speaks to me

it says “letting go of it makes it possible to breathe”

I’m not angry _ it’s a mood, a feeling it will pass, I promise

but I am irritated, fine you win, I will give you that, but only that

nothing else, just accept it

I desire air between my fibres, touching serenity with ease

and touch it, I will

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