The fuse
Has ashed away

Long past all the raving
The berating
Of my flesh and blood

There are rivers of red
Interwoven, across my back

And I’ve dug them all myself
In great flourishes of anger

So few are unscathed
As my words
Rip through serenity
In blinding, flashes of white

From here on
I will learn
To swallow every rotten word
That I burn to dispense