Sunday, May 6, 2007

Rage

I'm pissed. I'm angry. I'm raging and it's consuming me. I want to hurt everything and everyone in my path. It's moments like these that make me realize that I'm severely damaged and that my father must've overlooked it so that he wouldn't have to deal with it. Hell, I don't want to deal with it. But it feels so nice now that I think about it. To be in this mess. That hot, bubbling sensation that corrodes my being, that makes my fingers tingle with expectation, that fucks up my lungs to the point that I can barely breathe. I feel exhilarated, I can't wait. The smell of blood and fear makes me shudder, my mouth relaxes after I lick my dry lips. And they curl. I'm intoxicated with the prospect. I'm dying (ironically) to get my hands on my kill, my defenseless prey. I'm going out for coffee tonight. For a long while, and through this I'll drown all my rage and my passive aggressive stance. Yes. Today some unlucky bastard will feel me and regret being born in the first place.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

And what's YOUR damage? <<

- Caterina