Wrath

                Sometimes you feel angry. Frustrated. You feel like tearing down walls and hurting anything and everything in your path. Destroy them because you can’t destroy yourself. Or maybe you can. Maybe it just hurts less to tear yourself, slice off bits and pieces of your own flesh, and maybe it won’t hurt as much as all the anger you have pent up inside. You can’t hurt them; you can’t make them suffer the anguish they make you feel so you suffer it yourself. And you hate them for it. You hate every single one of them for it. But there’s nothing you can do. So you hurt yourself instead, because somehow, it hurts just a little less that way.