My voice is tempest –
Screeching of steel on steel.
Cacophony in expression.
Drowning out all the hate,
Heaped upon misfits like us.
There is no metaphor powerful enough,
To hold me.
My spells,
Weavings,
Auras,
Curses.
Every last enchantment.
Roiling & boiling –
Reality itself.
No Metaphor Powerful Enough To Hold Me.
