Anger is an energy.

stuck in the middle of the lowest common denominator sleeping in the center of a shell disguised as a mirror. inhaling the bullshit you call entertainment. it surrounds me. rips piece by piece till I am only a torso propped up and shaking out the withdrawals of positive reinforcement to accept the negative reality. blood stained dreams full of tye-dyed casualties sweep my memories dry without a way inside to renourish a dying man in his time of denial. stretched thin skin fragile to the touch. a fading pulse below the surface and no show of armor to hide my flaws. suicide at first sight. but under that weight where nothing is left but a crease and pressure is endless. anger surfaces. with all it’s conceited tenacity so focused and selfish nothing matters but escape.