revelation

i never stop being angry

a gunshot, 
piercing through air, 
pulling blood from something hidden 
into plain existence
the world freezes. a laugh escapes, 
because this cannot be real. 

so many ways i could write it.
a tidal wave pushing over the shoreline and 
crushing everything it touches - the sun flaring,
lashing out - lava seeping from the ground to 
burn what it has always known it will take -
my fist, a wall, drywall plaster,
fresh coat of paint. 

how many times in life does my mind
point to our reality while i close my eyes? now, 
the light streams in, 

look for every twinge of doubt gone ignored,
tessellating into something i'll never see the end of
you have done this before and
the fawn does not know what i know. 

shining and bright, i'm blinded by the white
hot flame catching my blood, flashing behind my eyelids,
and i am out of metaphors for rage
so i will not flinch. 

nothing i hear makes me blink anymore - 
not when the writing was on the wall the whole time
but if the clarity of hate could kill, 
he'd have been dead the moment i found out.