state it!
rant and rave.
tweet it.
spill with an anger grave
and throw it to the earth,
make it quake.
become a fit.
drag your feet
to leave marks
that say today
is not the day
I fill another bottle
with you. and when you’re
done, allow me unbotton my mind
to show the place
the hurt has formed a lump
that slowly spread from you,
and why we both need surgery
and this cup of tantrum
to become elastic again.

leonell echa

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