Why do I flood with molten rage?
This pressure in my temples,
Beside my green eyes
Which also burn,
Is like a dragging down of metal
From head to toe
And back up again.

Why do I squeeze tight?
Why do I stop squeezing?
And for ****'s sake,
Why don't I take something?

Because you're too good for it,
My inner selves say,
Because you're better off.

Well, *******,
Cause you don't know
A single thing!
Maybe you're the cause
Of my ******* distress.
Stop talking, I say,
Stop talking!
Let me rest.