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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