My anger looks like
a fire pit
burning in the woods
far from civilization.

My anger sounds like
a silent library,
so quiet you can hear
an ant run across the floor.

My anger moves like
the flames of a fire that got
lighter fluid poured on them.

My anger lives
so far away nobody can
tell when I’m upset.

My anger lives in a place
I call “know where.”

Participant:

Aiyana J.

Site:

Curt’s Cafe

Poem Title:

Dear Best Friend

Source Book for Poem:

Upstate

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