Genetic/Narcissistic Rage

If one more voice

dares to rise against me,

to cut the air with rage

and spit its weight on my skin—

I will not bow,

I will not swallow silence.

I will do the unexpected,

tear the script from their hands,

flip the stage upside down.

They think I am cornered,

but a corner births claws.

They think I am quiet,

but quiet carries thunder.

If anyone yells again,

they will meet the storm

they never imagined—

the strike they never foresaw.