I don’t know where
it comes from, this
anger I hold inside.

It boils and bubbles
to the surface before
I put the top on and
let the lobster boil.

It’s crazy and I’m
crazy to think it
could ever be something
I’m not. To dwell on
the facts instead of
reveling in the feelings
of it all. I know I’m
inhuman but you
don’t know what I am
or how to unplug me
from myself. I’m sorry
that you don’t. Just
don’t. But I can’t
guide you with my
eyes closed and I
can’t guide me with
my eyes shut.