Anger

When you strike
My blood boils
My eyes burn
And like a hooded cobra
Ready to strike
My shoulders tense
There is firmness in my step
And my mouth is
A stubborn gash on my face
My forehead is knotted and furious
My hands are clenched fists
My self-restraint has faded
Into oblivion, as has my fear
Of consequence and emotional upheaval
I become giddy and reckless, and
I would do anything for revenge
And as my conscience restrains me
And talks me into calm
I fight back blindly, then
Let peace wash over me, fatigued,
Like a helpless leaf fighting,
Then giving in to a storm
And blowing away
Leaving everything behind.
And when you leave
All that remains, is
A mass of self-pity and tears.