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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1701453
The best way I could descibe my anger.
This feeling in my chest, this feeling, it burns.

I can feel it starting from the boiling, bubbling, sloshing depths of my stomach. Like hot, burning, red magma waiting in the large chamber, it rocks itself back and forth waiting for that final push to launch it up.

Finally, it darts up my conduit, hastily scorching my esophagus, than spews out of this carter known as my mouth.

What has caused my tectonic plates to collide this time? Causing this new volcanic eruption?

Who, What, Why, How is it that the little red button buried away in the pit of my stomach, happens to be pushed yet again?

Do not you, do not I, do not the Universe understand the magnitude of the consequences of the foul madness someone or something have just created!?

This eruption You, I or quite possibly the Universe itself has fashioned is not to be taken lightly. It is not the kind of eye popping show that we wiggle all antsy in our seat for, eagerly awaiting the stupendous finale.

There is no blissful, savory ending to this pageantry. Oh no! Only contentions of fire dance about at this parade. Only the most atrocious, bloodthirsty, callous aphorism’s escape this trap.

What a low, wicked degenerate You, They, the Universe must think I am! How these flying rivers of lava must penetrate your soul. How this escaping hot ash must burn the flesh of your emotions.

Well, if that is a sight to see, stick around. Come bare witness to how brisk the atmosphere, the air, this eruption will shift.

This feeling in my chest, it no longer burns, but what is this pile of smoldering inferno that stands before me??

Is it the Universe or is it You?
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