What I’d give

Fingers cold

against cheekbones flared with fire

and they burn with the effort

I’m trying not

to let the tears fall.

I’m not sad

and I’m not weak.

I’m filled with passion

anger

hate

But all too soon you will learn

to use my tears

against me.

When I cry I don’t cry tears–

I cry fog–

into my brain

and I try to think

and I want to think

but my brain is spinning

like it’s milk

and I wish it all would go away

but this is all there is

and ever will be

My anger

at you

brushed off with a single hand

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