Anger's Room

It such a quiet, and gentle anger,

White, dressed in creamy cashmere,

Living in a white room, with swans

 

Hanging from their feet from the ceiling,

Like fancy paper cut-outs, their wings

Successfully tucked behind their backs.

 

When you know you never had a chance,

When you know he never made a promise,

Anger is white, and gentle, and purrs like a cat.

 

It’s when you realize that you’re the one

Who smelled promises where nothing cooled

Like a body, that’s when the white is lit up

 

Like a star, brightness fulminating,

That’s when its iron tips rip the cashmere

And blood drips down the swans’ open beaks.   

Author's Note

Inspired by a bit of heartbreak and 'Hidden" by Bjork, from "Vespertine." There's something about the rhythm and the crescendo from the back up chorus that said anger to me.

Reviews

[Goddisia]

how... how do you know those things?
it is not even the way you write, but what you choose to write about and how profoundly you embrace the subtle shades of meanings... I am blown away by the "you're the one Who smelled promises where nothing cooled Like a body..."