Anger

       Anger. Such a weak, diluted word in contrast to the intense, tangible emotion that slowly consumes your whole reality, dying the lenses of of your mind's perspective until it's the only thing left visible. Anger. The destructive nature can't be fully rendered by these mere markings on a page. It slowly starts knocking off every brick of the mansion that is your mind until the land is left barren and desolate. Still, this destructive force cannot be satisfied, it hungers for more and will take all that it can see. When there is nothing left inside you to break apart, it starts demolishing everyone else. Our internal brokenness only feeds the fire more -oxygen to the flame- replenishing the source so it may never cease, it may only be temporarily repressed. The repression just condenses it until its only option is to burst through every seam, more powerful and potent than before. I caution you, once the fire takes captive the first stick, in only a heartbeat the whole forest is consumed by unrelenting flame. Don't be deceived by the roaring noise, anger in its true heart is quiet. It's the echo of the pain that's been carried for so long. We carry around our suffering for so long that is has no choice but to combust. We break. We burn. We're destroyed and left with the ashes of remorse to remind us of all that's been taken by the flames. Remember that we can't condemn the fire itself. How could we when we are the fuel?