my demon is anger.
it rises and erupts in me;
i’m no longer a quiet, cool ocean,
but a fiery, angry volcano.
my demon escapes when i am weakest.
it wants me to be strong,
to dominate.
to destroy.
to be the best.
my demon is my curse.
it’s a part of me.
it makes me, me,
but i think it’s ugly.
it’s hideous.
i want to put an end to the anger,
but with two small hands
i can’t possibly stop a volcano.