There is a little black box
probably in the vicinity of the appendix
where she sends all her furious words
(a cocktail of swear words)
she gulps down with a pinch of anger
making sure she seals the lid. Tight.
She coats them in niceties
in accordance with the rules of society.
It is a one-way street spiraling downward
where the furious words go
and nothing escapes.
weighed down by
the continually increasing volume of all
the unsaid words making their way down there.
the pain boils over
like the pin of a grenade yanked violently off
This is inspired by Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Scream