this passion

there is passion in my veins,
engraved in my blood cells,
pumping through my heart
with pain that I only am able feel.

this passion tears apart anything
that it sees fit enough to destroy.
it never gives anything a second chance
the amount of anger and emotion it relinquishes
are unimaginable and incomprehensible.

no, this isn’t your
lovely passion looking for
a romantic evening.
this passion wants to kill you

it erases anything in sight.
it is a destructive ego maniac.
it fails to comprehend anything.
it says nothing, hears nothing.
it is made of nothing but flesh and instinct.

so as you sit their clinching to your seat
with sweat beading down every inch of your body,
you better pray that this passion
hasn’t yet reached my brain.