They made me angry.
I felt my heart fill with blood until it exploded inside me.
I felt blood dripping from inside.
I was a bottle of blood.
I saw smoke get out of my head, my nails were getting longer and longer, and the hair of my body was growing.
I was afraid of going to work, afraid that they'd see how I was crying blood, sweating with blood. Afraid that they could see the washroom drowning in blood.
I was afraid of explaining that a woman's anger was not something like that, that no one could taste anger.
YOU ARE READING
Taste Of Anger
PoetryI choose anger instead of sorrow I prefer madness over sadness I never want to be a victim. cover © : SIILDA
