Burning red, scorching flames of anger
At you, at everything
Congealing in her chest

Searing oranges and yellow
Sparking up
Within her amber eyes

The sickly green of spoiled milk
Of entitlement and jealousy
Coating her tongue

Blue lips, frostbitten from freezing her cold words
Inside her mouth
Because “that’s where disrespect belongs”

Regal, heavy, important, sultry purple velvets
Drape her brain from the rest
Of the boring, drab, grey people around her

Black, rotten, holed heart
Stinking of stinging smoke
From scorched feelings

She’s supposed to be just another girl
Pretty, poised, and collected
Intelligent but not too brilliant

But suppression-
Of rage-
Of expression-

Is turning her into the crazy witch
That the world paints her out to be
She guesses she might as well give them a show

Don’t you think?