Melodic is the Only Choice

What do I do when the rage builds

So High

Higher than the highest tree

Or building

Or even mountain

Not something I can tear down

Destroy

Or even climb

It gets so overwhelming

Without the ability to vent anywhere

Cause that's the life of a mom

Of a mommy

Of a femme lover

The rage has no place to go

The pressure to pretend like it's not there is only rivaled by the pressure itself

The steam hisses underneath the pressure

But there is no vent

It just builds and builds

Till the entirity of my being is just trying to contain the explosion

Yet it can't explode

Because men can't handle it

As much as they yell

And scream

And rage

If my voice isn't pleasant and melodic

There will be hell to pay