Stop it. (Blink.) Just. (Blink.) Stop it.
Eyes peering through shades of red
The rage within reaches a simmer
Double bubbling but not overflowing
Lots of toil, even more trouble
Nose, breathe in. Calm down.
Mouth, breathe out. Rage again.
Seething through gritted teeth
Exasperated on the one hand
Out of control on the other
Pinned against the ropes
A monthly SummerSlam event
Wreckage of the past forgotten
Caught by surprise, every. single. time.
As though calendars do not exist
Silent prayers, are you there, Judy?
It’s me, Hormone Monster.
The moment of resigned recognition
A laugh and a hello from the other side
See you next month, old friend.
Abiola Regan (she/her) writes poetry and fiction. She has a keen awareness of pop culture to the point that her friends have nicknamed her IMDb. She enjoys combining her academic background in psychology with her pop culture savvy to explore relationship dynamics in the pieces that she writes.