Sight of mine dulled to nothing but red. My aching fingers bleeding from the splayed out shards of glass. Time and time again, this feeling will never truly fade. The destruction that eases into every walk that I take.
The pent up pain that does not soothe It only comes in waves of doubt and an ache that runs deeply through my body. I can only sit in silence and wait for it to wash over as the never-ending wrath bounces in the corners of the room. No freedom found as I keep myself from lashing out.
My blood keeps dripping around my pooling ire. To lock up such a monster that laps away at every upset and disappointment There really is no telling when The day it stops rocking back and forth the dark curtained bedroom I try to subdue it in.
The day my warm blood no longer satisfies the steely blue light that edges its existence. And the way it bounces off of the crystal shards coated in crimson beneath my hands. Alcohol has never truly worked for me as much as I wished it did. What do I do when there is nothing I can do?
How will I cope when I can no longer keep from being violent?