sjsprWriting

I can't hear anything with rage in my ears,
and the sound of it building a permanent home there deafens any reason.

(You sound like you've swallowed gravel and stuffed it into your heart.)

Don't try to stop me, don't try to calm me down, don't stifle my words
- and let them overflow like bubbles that push past the brim of a glass after the champagne has been poured. 

(I'll kiss you tenderly and sound, then push my hands into your chest. I'll pry your ribs apart, move your lungs aside and then pass them, going straight up to your heart.

It's heavy in my hands: precious weight).

Stop loving me.

(I'll tear at it, desperate, to rip the tough skin apart and remove that gravel)

Stop caring.

(It doesn't work.)

Don't look at me. 

(Let me in.)

Let me go.