Angry, blistering, snarling,
My kettle needs attending to,
It is screaming for my attention.
Inside it boils skin-burning
“Pour me out!” it cries,
Steam pouring from the only escape route.
I hurry to stop its ear-piercing screech,
Unsure of what it says about me…
Am I alleviating its pain?
Or assuaging my own?
*No pic today to go with this. Letting it speak for itself.