Venom sucked from wound & spat onto page.
Viral infections, I will not let rage.
We know from what to do with our anger.
Fearless minds wait out the passing rancor.
All must process, but not all is valid.
Digesting toxins makes us grow pallid.
So we employ bare holes, crannies & nooks.
We paint ugly pretty; sculpt & write books.
Too thankful for my filter creative.
It makes even the toxic feel native.

