collateral for malicious intent

she's enraged and she's taken to playing with cocaine and propane
quick silver builds momentum with her guild, a solitary molotov cocktail
feet drumming on concrete, paralleling heart beat, minion in tow, she starts to squeeze; this brief union between the brainless heat and she seems to be unpleasingly foolish
disrupting aggressive destructive sessions, something pressing messages questions through her nerves, her forearm tenses, drenched in sweat and second guessing the verb and it's intention

sense and sensibility fenced against a repressing tension, and perhaps i've failed to mention, her intention is pretty clear?
weary mind, dreary eyes, she despises the place where her own space was denied
many nights she's cried, lying weakly beside her sheets where blood stains seep, unable to speak -- a fable, she thinks?
life is stifling, bane and bleak

again her feet graze the pavement, no more pretending to accept amends through recommended recompense
fuck the law, she sprints in amazement with eyes squinted and glazed, her intent is hell-bent on preventing this demon sent from selling his eternal debt
the bottle-rocket launches from her gauntlet laced hands, her demands branded in the frantically fluttering flame
but little does she know, inside, now ablaze is a wife and babe...