Anger and Vexation

a short poem on what anger feels like to me

Anger and Vexation

Fury has no taste, not one that I am unfamiliar with

At least, it lodges rightfully in my throat

Clawing down my neck to settle in the natural heat of my stomach

I devour rage like pieces of biscuits

That are dry

And can’t be softened even with milk

It’s a joke to think that such a subtle flame

Can be snuffed out

By a simple

‘I’m sorry’