sharkcuddles

My anger sits just below my sixth rib.

Nestled next to my heart, 

the rage has easy access to my bloodstream.

My anger utilizes that location well.

It spreads like a lit match dropped in kerosene.

Home is

trying not to smudge 

our still-sticky nail polish

on the carpet

as we sit

cross-crossed

on the floor

spilling secrets

& memories

our speech sliding