25. Vent
Like a spitting kettle on the stove,
Like a room choked in ashen smoke,
I'm three-hundred degrees and rapidly rising,
I'm just looking for a place to vent,
What's this brass box scented in secrets?
Who embedded all the windows in padlocks?
___________
A/N:
Good thing Winter is coming.
VOTE. COMMENT. SHARE.
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