Boiling Over

Your fingers are cold
As they wrap around my neck.
It's funny, though
You don't even realize what you're doing.
Everything is a joke,
Until you snap.
Then the anger boils over,
Scolding everything it touches.
I don't boil over.
The lid keeps tight on my soul,
my anger releasing itself
into the palms of my hands.
So go on,
Turn your burners all the way up.
I'll be there,
Getting Burned,
Cleaning Up Your mess
.....
Again