The anger boils, threatens to spill, barely contained inside the small vessel called my brain.

Or rather - my heart.

The pressure builds and that three letter phrase, oh, I'm so close to screaming it.  

Yelling it and letting the whole world know...

The anger isn't mine, it's yours too.  YOU are the reason, my inferiority, my self-conciousness, my everything. 

That three letter phrase, I HATE YOU, trembles out, quieter than I imagined and less harsh than anticipated. 

Broken, bent, frayed at the edges from minimal active use but constant inner activity.

A deep breath, a small sigh, I look up and can't help but smile

You're as wonderful at being the villian as I am as at communicating.

Words don't flow unless they're on paper, usually, much overdue

Mouth open, heart open, head cloudy, I can't retract that three letter phrase

Perhaps a band aid, something to close the wound

I LOVE YOU

That three letter phrase.