My anger is immense. It is seeps into nearly every aspect of my life. I stood at my job, alone in the corner of a warehouse, feeling an anger so intense that it was destructive. I wanted to dig my own hands deep into my chest. I wanted to pull the two sides of my rib cage apart, hearing the snapping and tearing of bone and tendon. See the deep crimson red spill from my body, as if it was a manifestation of my anger pouring from me. I wanted to cry. I cannot cry much, if at all. All too often I feel the tear ducts fill, water building against the wall of a dam that is about to burst. But they never come, the ravines beneath my eyes always stay dry. One day when driving home from work I drove by a deer. It was dead. It was dead right outside of a elementary school, and the street was decorated with the line of cars filled with parents waiting to pick up their children. And they all ignored the rotting body of a beautiful animal that sat within eye sight of them. About 5 minutes later I parked my car, arriving home. I sat in my car and cried. It was the first time in months.
CHUFFINGJENKEM 