Xenacious

And then, would you not

Believe that the next thing

Carla said to me that

Day completely, and I mean

Entirely, disintegrated my

Feelings. What kind of

Grossly cold-

Hearted woman

Intends to

Jab a stake right through me and

Kill any sense of hope

Left inside of

My brittle little heart?

 

Nevermind my hectic week and my

Ornery classmates though; I'm

Pretty sure you've suffered worse. So I'll

Quarantine my anguish,

Refrain from spilling sour

Swears and

Trailing on about nothing productive . . .

 

Unless I do it anyways. I'm sorry, I needed to

Vent. You know the feeling

When all of the stress bottles up in your chest - making you

Xenacious and longing to alter something? But I know I can't . . .

 

                           Yours truly,

                                           Zoe

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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