Anger

When anger boils around me

like golden red fire

it doesn't matter if

it is meant for me.

(Duck, turn, cover

Placate, soothe)

Sometimes there's no

calming the storm

(Deflect

twist away

ESCAPE)

And I weather it

stinging
but only slightly singed

And sometimes

(rarely, anymore)

I

stand and fight

Angry in turn

at the fear

that shellacs me

into stillness

and makes me cringe

inside.