The Twinge

A twinge,

A hinge,

A sudden sharp pain.

It's local,

It's vocal,

It's loud and it's proud.

Flaring and baring,

And swinging and kicking,

And biting and screaming.

A battle in your head,

When you want someone dead.

Over a silly look

At her, you wonder

What's going on in there?

In his mind

Does he wish

For what you've seen?

The lust,

The fire,

The endless desire,

The loss of trust,

In yourself,

In your feelings,

In your heart and its dealings.

This Twinge, as we may

Is that of jealousy,

You can't do much more than pray

When at it's mercy.

It has you in it's clutches,

It's filthy grabbing claw,

Wrenching at your anger,

And tightening your jaw.

You want to freak out

Then and there,

But this battle is silent.

You smile, you laugh,

And slowly it passes you by.

But don't forget the powerful feeling,

Where you wished someone to die.