The familiar rush
her quick temper overtaking her
passing over the logical brain like the Tasmanian devil
a frothing, frenzied blur
Escaping out the door of her mouth
before she can grab its hand and hold it back.
anger seeking empathy
exploding like a flame to gas
And then gone, leaving Remorse,
weary and resigned
I could have done that better, she thinks.
when will I learn to thrown water on the beast before
it draws attention to itself?
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