Stoic Streams

The flush of heat beneath my skin
Gives way to the grit of my teeth
And I see fire burning in my eyes
--I can't stop myself from screaming out
My hands are not mine to control
The lashing and the thrashing,
It's my voice but my anger's words...
Twisted frustration untangling itself
A futile attempt at snapping back
The desire of its original shape
--But its origins are lost in boiling blood
Replaced with raging reds,
Silenced by stoic streams--
Silent containers of my inner turmoil,
Pumping anger from my veins
Dispelling my toxins.