Cold and Dead; Fear

I get angry, at what I say
because it’s not what I wanted to say.
I get frustrated at the answers
because they aren’t the answers
to the questions I didn’t ask.
The responses to the things
I keep inside
disappear behind the conversation
that goes to the place
conversations go to die.
I watch each one pass
like a coroner
I examine them and find their cause of death.
Cold and dead.
They all die of the same thing,


One Response to Cold and Dead; Fear

  1. missgypsy says:

    Oh Yeah! I totally get you on this one, Good Job. Love this Poem!

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