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Rage Fueled Blindness

Pained finger. Cracks and snaps. Deep breaths to get over it. Get it over with. Nausea at the pit of my stomach. Monstrous transformation I’ve undergone. Malice I begun with. Could use a gun, but the pop would make it too real. I don’t want to run. Craving the numbness.
Tight grip, I squeeze. Thought bubbles surface. Words in silence. Boiling water hides the violence. Struggles to keep inside. Hopes to hide. Hopes to die. Tears roll down red eyes. Lingering moments that don’t go by. Branded images. Back of the mind. Persistent twists of liquid mist obscuring things. Rage filled. Caged and ill. Killed will power. Standing still, towers, tall build. Showers of blood ripple. Screaming “enough.” Chilled spine. Raised hairs. Tunnel vision. Blinded sight. Regrets but no want to fight. Sensations that feel right to relieve the pint up aggression. Repression released in the middle of reflection. The ease overwhelming the senses. “Please” I plea to my hands unrestraining. The great pause. The cause of the silence.

Ahh. In a moment the greatness taste fateless. A stateless representation of flavors. Breaking innocent behavior. Corrupting into slave work. Causing eruptions underneath as favors. Scratch the growing itch. Churning the son of a bitch. It burns within. Release of weakness onto weaker things. Abuse and crooked fiends created. Whether or not its hated. Mislead and faded.
Shouting demons formed. Horns and all. No one ever learned to never call the devil wrong. Get him started singing songs. He’s heartless. He was all along.