Unquenchable rage
fully saturated
dripping
I hold balance in the palm of my hand
caressing the thin fragility
divine softness
then I squeeze with forcible grip
the yolk runs down
the dirty soul
and transmutes to despair,
Unquenchable desire
I wish only to be understood
but don't you dare come near
The cycle persists
old as time himself
For a circle has no beginning
and no end
Perhaps parents are to blame
perhaps the world is to blame
for their cold unopen arms
and dogmatic structure
but maybe
maybe
The perpetrator lies within