Frustration and anger.

Living within me.

A volcano ready to explode. Implode. Blow up.

Sharp voices,

adding heat to the fire.

pressure,

adding wood to the stove.

we used to be a garden,

but all that is now withered and grey.

long, sharp thorns protrude from the ground,

living relics of our emotions,

waving in the wind,

mockingly,

like the slender flowers that once bloomed there.

so achingly cold,

consuming,

the acid rain pours down from unfeeling skies,

like silk against the window.

smiles hiding snarls,

appearance versus reality,

sleek wolves prowl in daylight,

the moon bears itself at noon.

I am adding layers to my shield,

applying superglue to the cracks.

sealing myself in.

the sky is my refuge.

stars twinkling in front of me,

while behind,

my mind buries itself in icicles and utter coldness.

hurting, just pretending not to feel.

--By Yue Lin

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