Who do I Lay This Resentment Unto?

It’s has been so long since I have allowed myself to

feel the kind of anger that melts my bones and tendons from within.

All this time I have only felt the anger, which really is just sorrow,

that freezes frost over the window panes from which I see this world through.

I shut my shivering self in, coiled into the pits of my own dying embers.

I have forgotten the power of my wrath,

I imagine it could force my wrongdoers to their knees, weeping at the sight of my

great and terrible enigma, the bloody seething extensions of my anger whipping around me…

Begging me for the chance to force those on their knees to

pay their debts.

But I have starved this version of me.

I have tucked her so far back those great and powerful limbs of shadow are just but

shrivled nothingness, but a whisper of that great force.

And without her protection I have been brutalized and abandoned,

A bruised and bloody mess. Nothing but a semblance of a corpse.

But that is where the mistake of my tormentors lies.

Because now those withering extensions of my wrath, now stretch and crawl

their way to my river of blood that trickles down slowly一thin streams of retribution.

They quiver, tremble, at their first gulps of liquid that charges them with life,

and slowly but surely they grow into the monstrous extensions of the girl, the beast, that once was.

And there she is, drawn out by the violence so cruelly bestowed on me.

My wrath, my protector, and she is hungering for vengeance.

She will not regret bringing this world down to ashes,

for she has been forced to silence for too long.

No one can ever step over me again.