last night i got angry it was a very strange feeling because i've never really gotten angry before
i got so angry i went outside and ripped 3 branches of leaves from a bush
i stared at them a plant's livelihood sitting in my hand and suddenly i was a murderer
i began to cry and cry and cry i didn't want to get that angry or go ballistic but i felt mad in more ways than one.
this is like a diary entry, a personal anecdote for me. it might be hard to relate to this, but sometimes poems are just meant as a release. this one is. please enjoy all the same!