There's an anger that wells up in a person. It hurts, and it burns, and I hate that I can feel it so strongly when nothing else seems able to make me truly feel.
My heart clenches up, my eyes feel like they're ready to tear up, and these hands... These hands could do anything.
Except I'm weak. And like everything else, this anger is fleeting. It comes, and it goes, and while it's in me, I damage things. I hurt people. I say words that I know I'll regret.
But in the moment, I don't care. But neither does the anger.
Author Notes: Also, guys, this is not my favorite thing I've written, so I'd appreciate it if you'd give some of my other things a look so that people get a little more realistic idea of my writing... It's just always my less favorite things that get featured or make it onto the highest rated catergory, or whatever. It's a little aggravating.
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United States • 18 years old