A preference

What would I prefer? I ask myself
Would it be the heat of anger
Hotter than any fire
Burning with the ferocious waves of internal lava
So I have to bite back my words
As they will turn you to a solid mass
Of never moving ashes

Will it be the cold calm fury
From where I watch you playing games
And the cool me more frozen than a glacier?
I could pierce you with my ice if I so wish
Frozen for all time

I wish neither of these things
They are not beneficial in any way
You will eat at my angers hot or cold
Every time you create another drama

I know that the storms must be weathered
For the moment
When the last string that forces me to be bound
Breaks
You will need a safe harbour to hide
As you unleash your own storm of ignorance
Your bliss will end by your own hand
And I will have no pity left to spare.

Ailsa

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