Scratch out the pent up rage.
Let the paper catch the drops of liquid anger.
Begin the flow that long ago was stemmed
By an ill-begotten dam.
Break loose. Break gently. But break.
For goodness sake, break.
The abscess throbs to spit its poison from
Out of the aching soul.
Hunching like a flaming wick,
She bows to the fire consuming her center.
And as she watches her waxy shell soften from
The burning inside,
She melts away, diminished by enlightenment consent.
Once again she can rejoice. She feels the pain.
She tastes it. She touches it. She sees it. She hears it.
She glows in the dark, broken and bright.