Seeing red, I follow the glow Like a beacon in the distance, True north to follow course Through insipid suffering.
Smoke in my nose Blackening my lungs With armor forged from ash and ember, The scent wakes me Like epinephrine through asystole.
Rage rings my head like a bell, Drawing me out of my corner. I crave carnage, Foaming at the mouth In an empty ring, A spectacle of desperation.
My senses all ablaze, I feel I’ve earned the privilege To bask in the exaltation Of resonating wrath.
Finally indulging in justified indignation, Giving myself a break From despondent self-flagellation, I am not ready to give up the pleasure Of pulsating apoplexy.
I let fury singe away my pitiful defeatism, My pathetic victimhood, But I am warned That while attempting to thaw From hypothermic quadriplegia, One may find the seduction of self-immolation Too persuasive to deny.
But I know my limits, I tell myself. I’ll stop when I want to. I’ll know when I’ve had enough.
I swear I will stay vigilant, Taking my temperature, Checking my pulse. I will not let this righteous ire Burn out of control.