itās in my collarbone. itās coiled in my stomach, simmering in my blood, a corrosive chemical eating away at everything good and gone left in me. i keep it in my palm, curled around my fingers when i press them into fists, enough for my fingernails to cut into my skin, enough so that everyone else can smell blood. i keep it there, in my hands, where i can wield it and i can suppress it simultaneously. itās dangerous. itās more than just a weapon; itās my being, and that means it can kill, it can kill with only a word. itās sharp. itās a serrated blade: i keep it in my ribs, i keep it in my ribs like the bones are enough to keep it caged. i keep it there, right next to my heart, because maybe my conscience can keep it from getting out, maybe it will be balanced there. itās in my thighs, itās in thin red lines, itās in my knees, itās in my bone marrow. i hide it in the arches of my feet, which are red and aching with every minute i run longer and longer and longer, like i can pound all the heat out into the pavement. i pull my laces tight enough to choke off oxygen; i shimmy on hairbands taut enough to cut off circulation. i can trap it if i try, i can keep it there while starving the rest of me, because if thereās nothing to feed it, it canāt grow. thereās a snake in my stomach, curled around the knobs of my spine, eating itās own tail. barbaric. itās crawling in my skin, all that fire and all that fury. i swallow it down with every bite of food, i choke it back with every gulp of water. itās like my body is a desert: my anger digests everything i put in it and grows fuller and fuller, while the rest of me withers away. goodbye to the goodness, goodbye to the kindness, thereās no longer a place for it. my anger is dangerous. i canāt trap it in my palms or the marrow of my bones; it keeps getting out. itās a spreading stain, all over my insides, like my hands are dripping red when i touch it and i leave fingerprints, everywhere i go, a trail of blood following me. my anger is long lasting. i keep it in my hair, where the summer sun brings out the red in all its fire and flame. i keep it in my eyes and the hollow beneath my eyebrow bone, where the shadows creep across my skin and darken, just for a moment, when no one is looking. i keep it in the harsh brush of my eyebrows, hollow of my ear. i keep it in my ribs, i keep it in my spine, i keep it in my heart. i keep it, but i donāt contain it, no, i canāt contain it any more. but i keep it everywhere, love, i keep it everywhere.
