In response to The Daily Post prompt: Angry
Last night I told you I hated you – the words wafted up like hot air. I hope you did not believe me.
I want to howl that I am angry, breathe like a dragon, scald with my words, singe with my stare. I want to be angry. Anger would absolve my misbehavior. Just as one does not argue with a drunk or bicker with a child, imagine the freedom I would have to be honorably angry! In lieu of pedestal worthy self-righteousness, I now hold the same pride with empty hands – it’s laughable.
I’ve got a loose tongue. I yearn to be wild. I have an undisciplined tongue, that follows action rather than thought as it laps. I have a masterful tongue that adores reactions to hurtful words.
I confessed. Shouldn’t that alone be the virtuous deed that crowns me a queen? Won’t you allow me to abuse and tarnish you and still be the victim?
Forgive my pride – the clout I built upon lies and your manipulation based on the appearance of my perfection, was my only leverage. See now, what hid beneath my purple cloak.
How now, do we move forward? Float away with me and forget that you are angry.