Coals

Red hot coals burn hotter with every word that slips through her painted lips
She stirs them whenever she enters the room
They will never die down because of her
Sparks fly and rage builds
Her cold heart won’t let her keep warm
So she spits anger at her coals, hoping they’ll burn hot enough

She doesn’t know that someday they will break free
Consuming house and home with fiery tongues
And everything she had will be gone.

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