Matches - A Slam Poem

You anger me in stages. My blood boils, rages like Grendel when Wulf kills his mother. I get consumed by my tunnel vision, driving through darkened valleys watching lilies blacken, darken, wither. You tether me but I'm no animal, but I know why you do it. I love you few and few when you do that thing you do where you tie a ribbon around my throat that locks and knots and strangles me into submission. I'm mad and my temperature rises, 27 million degrees Fahrenheit. I'm high off of the smoke that steams out of my ears, I can't hear you now that I'm raging like a hurricane of flames, I'm wilder than wildfire that spreads through my veins but I'm so cold. I chill and shiver trying to defrost in the sauna where you sweat with hyperthermia that's got you so hot in your own ways. You play with matches over my gasoline.