Anger is the little red devil
with hornet's wings and
sharp young horns
perched upon one's shoulder
whispering foul resentful hatred
into a eager manipulated ear

as the intensity rises
the mouth becomes
twisted grim and set
with clenched teeth brimming
of lucid seething words
eyes exploding fiery from sockets
glaring the look of accusing
nostrils flaring and
rushing out steam with
great intakes of restricted trapped air
tongue sharp and flicking
throat vibrating with
low rumble of canine growl
clenched fists slash out
dripping ink from wallpapers
hurling objects across room
smashing destroying throwing away
bits and pieces of lifeless innocent objects

afterwards the soul is
completely drained and empty
back is bent and slouching
lungs contradicting small breaths
mouth shut eyes watery
inner workings of heart
lining of stomach
still and faded
drabness and realization

even though I have never
witnessed my anger
face to face
I can only imagine
there must not be
a sight more grotesque and pitiful
in the world.