A Round of Resentment for Two 

Silently slouched in a boiling brood.

Cuddled close to manufactured moods.

Slowly seething in infuriation, 

Engulfed, entranced by imagination. 

Watching, writhing, Elephants dance.

Let it go? Not a chance. 

Provoked pouring two cups of tea.

Come now, sit and sip with me. 

Boiling, bubbling, searing flames. 

Hemlock, hate, two scoops of blame.

Cheers, my friend. I raise my glass,

To take a taste from the past. 

Just like booze, a brew of blues, 

Fired up I light the fuse. 

It ignites my agitation.

I gladly guzzle exasperation. 

Sour scowls, for the pain I cause me. 

I huff and I puff without pausing. 

Temper, temper, to my displeasure.

I can’t stop cause I’m still tethered. 

Made me mad, now dodge the daggers. 

A sober stupor, I start to stagger. 

Angst and anger are the fists of fear. I proceed to punch the near and dear.

Pre-planned pain that’s self inflicted,

Carry the grudge cause I’m addicted.

I pound the poison and love the lie.

But if you don’t drink, then who will die?
~S.D. 

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