A Beautiful Anger

With my anger finally spent, I collapsed into his arms. I had beat my fists with the strength of struggling butterflies against his chest and screamed until my voice dried up like a cracked desert floor. Even though I desperately tried to hold them back, tears streamed down my face, slipping down my neck and pooling along the edge of my breasts.

"Serve with a single heart," he mumbled into my hair as he pressed his lips to my head. I lifted my tear-filled eyes to his and screamed with the voice I thought I had lost. It was not words but a primal growling scream from the very roots of my being. A noise that seemed to grow to fill the entire space around us. The ground vibrated with my irritation shaking me loose from his grip. I closed my mouth and stepped back.

Now standing eye to eye with him and his haunting beauty, I found myself again. My conviction suddenly became clear in the face of his silent indifference. I was not a cog in his machine to be manipulated to his liking. The tears dried in my eyes. My skin hardened to stone and my mouth set it's self hard against my teeth.

I could crack words off like bullets. I could live or die without consequence. I could snap bones. I could stare into the eye of God and not flinch. I could kiss him and feel nothing.

"I am free," I turned on my heel and walked into the sun with no fear left in my beating heart and my anger long since gone.