You know
I am pretty happy
But its not what you think.

Its a box.

Yeah,

Its a box i sit in.
Its the place I built
To hide from myself.
I got my girl.
I got my boys.
I got my friends,
And my games,
And my job.

So im good.

But,

You see.
There are times,
When I think about
How messed up people
Can be:

To each other.
To themselves.
To animals.
To Earth.
To what we can really be,
What we NEED to be.
Even to little kids..........

And this is the time,
Yeah,
When all i wanna do is
peak
Over the lid of that box
And then:

My eyes glisten
within the flames
of pure agression.

The blind kind.

And I watch
As i fall somehow,
within myself,
Like down the throat of a dragon.
Screaming in absolute rage.

You know,...

 the tunnel vision kind?
The seeing red and black kind?
The saves you in fist fights kind?
The no pain kind.

The "if you even hint
That you are thinking,
What I THINK you are thinking.
I will claw my finger nails away
And ******,
trying to scratch my way to it.
Through your idiotic skull.
So i could remove
What would be the first thought
You've had in years.
So that I could then
Deny its rightful place
As king to the bran muffin
Between your diamond earings
You use to make decisions.
Just so I could then devour it
Excrete it back out,
Set it afire with
The very rage of
HUMANKIND
That floats somewhere
Between my heart, lips and mind
Just so I could Then throw myself
Upon those very flames.

And all of that...?

So that what remains of me
Won't have the energy to waste
On the thought of you."
Kind of

RED

RAGE