My
short temper
aims for the ones
I love
with unbeatable precision.
My friends,
decorated with battle scars,
continue to stay
only to be cut
by my sharp words.
My apologies no longer
remedy the pain
I have caused.
When my fuse
is burning,
my loved ones
run for cover,
and I can't
stomp out the flames.
My path for
self destruction
is all too familiar.
I have yet to discover
why I feel the need to destroy
any person who tries to show me compassion
while on my lonely journey.