Seething

Seething

Anger.
Not a red-hot blinding rage.
Not one that makes you want to
Scream. Lose control.

No.
This feeling is cold. Sullen,
It sits in your heart. Grows
Quietly, but surely, weighs

Down
Like a heavy bag of rocks.
Its ice-cold burns the same
As any fire would. It leaves

Your
Head clear. Too clear. And you
Start to plan all the
Ways to get them back.


End.