the morning after

"she spat fire"

the loneliness in her eyes
driving on attention
heart fuelled with anger
and abandonment
targeting the better,
the kinder, the lovelier

before
she spat out fire
raging flames no longer trapped
the drought has been too long
and the rain can't wash her out
only light can diffuse
but sunshine is not allowed

for she has hurt
and chose to hurt more
for when your mind trembles
and your knees are weak
you're at the edge of irony
or the end of the week

maybe she should get some rest
and
learn to spit water instead