Challenging Poetry

choice and consequence

He didn't make me mad.
I chose to be mad,
and to yell until I was hoarse
and to miss dinner
and to run to my room to cry
for the frustration of it
until my nose was red with snot,
and to open the door when he knocked
and to punch his half-apology
off his lying teeth and to break
his nose when he didn't
back away fast enough
to miss my slamming door.

April 22—Free will (or not?!)