i'm angry, so deep in my gut that it's wrapped around my spine. the violet, violent energy of it slicks down the back my legs, right along the bone, puddles in my kneecaps and renders me unstable. it branches up, vertebrae by vertebrae, crawling with sticky fingers through my ribcage and tunneling up behind my eyes. it has taken over my shoulderblades and the tips of my fingers, leaving me poised, trembling all over with the desire to transform this potential into kenetic, to strike, slap, slay. my joints feel unfamilliar, my skin hard and unresponsive. the recesses of my inner ears resonate with the echo of impacts, the blackedout moments of rage.

the clock blazes a sadistic 3AM, and i wake to this - my whole body screaming for a fight, for a death, for a gladiator torn to shreds with tight bare hands. my room leers quiet and dark, and in the four hours before i fall asleep again, i pray for someone to break into my house, give me excuse to release this deafening urge.