Anger.
The kind that boils, twists inside you until you're left with a coldness that refuses warmth.
Unhappiness.
The kind that leaves you thinking of nothing in particular, except a faint feeling of emptiness which is quickly taken over by a wave of frustration at it's meaninglessness.
Reaction.
The kind that makes you want to punish and hurt until they scream. Except whose punishment, whose hurt.
Anger.
It always returns. Washing over like a wave, relentless, unhappy, stifling.
2 comments:
Word. Sometimes I think the world should self-combust.
Taking most women with it too. UGH.
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