My anger lazily sits in my shallow chest,
It has run out of productive things to do,
It is done with wishing you all the best
As my sky is now empty and dark blue.
My anger swings its legs in the air,
And the temperature climbs below zero.
The anger has my eyes, icy and fair,
As you brand me a whore
Who sees herself as a hero.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 