it is a funny thing, this rage.
numbing, and tiring,
it breaks my bones
and holds my head underwater,
but still,
it drives me forward.
have i ever lived without it?
this restlessness, it is uncanny.
it is crippling, unfair.
it makes me hate the sunlight,
search for loneliness
and still,
it pushes me beyond.
have i ever moved without it?
this urge to scream, this... terror,
it is incomprehensible.
it ties me to the ground,
it gnaws at my throat
and forces me to stay put.
yet, in some ridiculous,
cursed way,
it is why i still am.
have i ever been without it?
i regret it,
this life of giving in,
of open hands and clenched jaws.
i regret being like this,
being so afraid,
that i depend on the most vile,
most unbearable of feelings
to even move.
will i ever be better than it?
