Some words you, just, can not get out.
I try but the words dont come out.
I speak but my voice isnt heard.
My cup has over filled, and now the beast has a few words of his own.
I enthrall the bed side table. fixed eyes to the lamp. a snarl so demonic, deaf ears would fear the tear of an angels hands.
I scream into the lamp. Not to be weird but because i dont wish to scream at anyone, but a scream is coming out wether i want or not. i put my hands on the table. because she is too precious to me and my strength is just enough to not take a cowards way to the top.
a momentary split reveals the room red.
a blood vessel pops in the eye only making my appearance even more sinister. i only mean to defend against someone i shouldnt need to.
a beast all of its own statue, two hundred and thirty five pounds of italian mastiff. cowered in a closet. too afraid to protect its owner. two small schnauzer, piss themselves in fear of moving. even though they uncontrollably shake, too afraid to raise their nose. a spouse clam shut out from an unexpected outburst.
through red, i see red, and i fear what i could do.
a small crack in a dam. it jets a stream of anger. unrepairable. yet a bandaid stops the flow. with enough time and continuous saturation, that very same bandaid starts to leak. eventually losing its adhesion. the dam spills again. its a fight, battling the strength and pressure of the jet stream just to place a slightly bigger bandaid on it.
i explain myself. i apologize for myself even though i know i only said the words and took the blame so no more words need be shed on a battle field of confusion.
time to sleep next to the beast. am i the beast? or are my thoughts?
how long will this bandaid last?
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