I stab you in the face. I strangle you to death. I slap, hit, and kick you over and over again. I blow up your house. I put water in your gas tank, and then blow up your car anyway. I steal your identity, and embarrass you when you have to have her pay for all your dates. I tie you to a chair, attach your ******* to a car battery via clamps painful on their own, and then proceed to electrocute you. I steal your dog, and she likes me better anyway. I turn your sister into a *******. I recruit four horsemen to pull you limb from limb between them. I burn you to the ******* ground, and force-feed your ashes to someone you hate, so you're always a part of them. I slice you open from taint to ******* and stuff you with cheese as rancid as your soul before sewing you back up and sealing it with a kiss. I feed you **** pie. It doesn't really matter though; my fury never dies.
I could leave, but you hold me tight In your arms it’s hard to remember what’s wrong I would rather stay forever So caught up I’d leave me discarded on the floor You are always in my head, perseverating You of the ancient flame, you of the bic lighter It’s like a sickness, susurrating in from all directions I can’t tell cold from fire
How to stand, beneath the weight of it You are everything, the explosion of even creation coming into being I’m lost to this You comfort me, you come for me Drink down all the words I hold My nerves like musical instruments. And leave me to unravel with the fury of my love for you
Lying in the pit of my stomach Is a furious fire breathing dragon I'll never admit it But that dragon is tearing at my insides Trying to desperately claw its way out And devour every flaw, every mistake It longs to burn the flesh of whom I despise Claiming me as it's final prize
it rises in me like a quiet tide like a rushing, swelling feeling that sets me fit to burst that fills me up and wells out from underneath my ribs and spills right over into my lungs and drowns my heart in its siren call of violence and in this moment i find that
i cannot fight it
because in this moment, they deserve the anger they deserve the blood
and yet, they also deserve nothing
and so i rage and fury and frustration that builds with the red hot taste of a million suns that fills my gums and worms it's way under the beds of my nails, slides through my skin and twists it's way around my heart hardening it giving me teeth and claws and skin of iron and the courage to run run run and then i can
i will rip into their bodies with words like knives teeth that tear and rip and shred i will bite their bones until they break lodge my claws deep in their lungs pull out their hearts and i will eat them
i am hungry so so hungry
and now these men and their hearts-of-war their fat coin purses with strings pulled tight
they have fallen to the beast
the one that they created
raised to be their downfall
(they have eaten my own flesh, drunk the marrow from my bones and watched me eat from the palms of their hands while i bled out
and so now i will devour their bodies feast on their meat as they did on mine)
and so i will slink away into the shadows i will draw back in my claws and teeth hide my hard heart and shining steelskin and put on the mask to hide my ravenous eyes
but i will be back my hunger is never slaked, my belly never full i will gorge on the hearts of those who thought i would never come for them
i am the creature i am the war i am hunger famine pestilence
i in the end am anger
and i am
we children have lead our lives on diets of all too familiar post apocalyptica and the feeling of rage burning hot through our stomachs, magma at our cores. one day, we will erupt.
It’s just a phase, right? Just a luring fury. A flame at empty hearts. A gun at the long emptiness. A fight to rule a wasteland. Fury at the fog. I’ll grow out, right? For me myself and I are the victims of my own change. Not a greedy statement, loneliness changes your view of that. Those friends you had just make the sides angrier. A man up or a man down brings me on a ride. A conflict out of and for chaos. Goals are skewed when you think about it. For when you don’t know who you are, what's stopping you from ending what you thought was you? If you don’t know what's truly you, what's stopping you from tearing everything apart to find what is the real cause? But what if my entirety is the cause? Does the emptiness I feel the thing I should? Should I no longer be? Who is no longer being if I do? My fury is clamoring for blood of my own. But when the culprit is unclear but you need to fight, must you Fury at the fog?
Just a kind of edgy phase poem, I'm in this phase for quite a while. But I go chronologically. Just prose
I stare at the Kettle: Reflection of your vile face. Has left me in aghast! Oh, how I wish to erase Flashback of grotesque past. Heart seared by the venom Of disturbing memories Caused by antagonism. This rage can’t be appease Mind becomes murderous.
The Kettle begins to hiss: The soul simmers with wrath- Insanely dangerous, Hungry for a blood bath! Oh, I wish for a knife And stab you many times As you left me in strife From your abusive crimes. Wounded me as a child And left me powerless.
Boiling Kettle rattles: My madness is wild Have I lost my saneness? Many years I’ve been irate- Tolerating in silence- Blood boils with sinful hate! My spirit seeks the thrill For an eye for an eye- As it **** for your **** And to see you die!
Gas sparks, Kitchen ignites: Body burnt into ashes- Soul seethes in resentment. Revenge sweetly slashes You to my contentment. Hands stained with red blood Like trenches of war mud. Eyes consumed and blind - Peace of heart now confined By rapacious rage.
Mind is a Murderer! Am I a Murderer! Will I ever surrender? Will I ever surrender And taste tranquility? Or is my spirit cursed? Or is my spirit cursed To be trapped by the thirst Of the boiling kettle That will never settle Until vengeance scorches!
(c)Jo Swan 2018
I wanted to explore the darkness of human nature. Recently, I had an incident at work where I saw a man who was consumed rage. I wanted to explore the darkness of his mind. There are moments in some people's lives where we are consumed with rage that we will **** for vengeance.