Introspection memoirs

What is Anger

A little flame inside. It is under so many passions and flaws. It burns and burns.
Its is an energy and the wrath of so many evils. It is quiet and unnecessary. It exists as an entity and a shrine for the hunger to devour and shred apart sanity.
That flame becomes a fire and it burns through you and across you. The fire ignites every sense in you and it grows. It seeps through your bloodshot eyes and it numbs your composure. You need it, it becomes vital and unyeilding. It becomes furious and petrifying. Your fists clench and your mind screams. You hear your heart and it beats louder and louder until it is unbearable, the fire growls in you and at you.
You look away at nothingness, at a void, you try to extinguish it with sanity but that was long gone along with all the things you had said and vomitted out. You look inside and the fire is hungry, it crawls inside you now and it mocks your every thought. Everything becomes wrong, you become the definition of it. All your lucid dreams and pretty faces vanish into a pit of fire and ash.
Your only escape out of the pit becomes everything unsaid and undone. Your mind turns off every light in you, an absolute shutdown. Your eyes become heavy and the shredding fire turns every emotion in you in to gray ash of what used to be. Sleep, the only non-destructive action you can still do.
And with that choice after all, you lay down your arms and you let the fire be. You turn it over to your unconscious, for consciousness is a wrecked state now. It is ravished and empty.

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