Rage

My blood boils. My skin burns. I feel it seething, Seeping, leaking from my very pores. Fingers clenching and twisting dig trenches into my palms as the magma scorching the core of my soul incinerates my reason. The demon writhing inside my chest begs for freedom. “Unleash me.” he says. I itch to release this collar from my burning throat so this blinding vehemence will stop eating, gnawing at me. Gnashing, grinding teeth slake their thirst in the hot, sickly sweet elixer of my fiendish fury. I clutch desperately to the last strings of my heart, the scent of fear does little to assuage me. I can hold it no longer. It will not cease, it runs too deep, too fast, the torrential flooding fiery rain of hellfire twists my mind to murderous intentions. Wrath itself would cower before me. It is too late, my bones grind and pop, great jaws clenched lock about that hollow, fragile windpipe of peace and strangle it, thrashing from side to side until its very spine cracks and the straps binding my ruthlessness snap, shredded to ribbons by the wickedness of cruel claws. I suffocate in it. I am consumed by it. Drowning of my own will and I tear the last remnants of this feeble, pathetic creature called love from my scalding heart and pound it to the earth with bare fists. I relish in it’s misery until the corpse before me gags and chokes on its own fractured teeth. It spews the blood from it’s busted lips and sliced tongue. in all encompassing malice I smile at this savage evil I have done.

I am slaughter.