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.