I use the rags of betrayal and the fuel of desperation to light a fire.
This temper is lost upon me, though it is sure to find you momentarily.
I cannot afford to spend emotions on you, for I owe you nothing.
My fury is unbreakable.
I feel only the pain of anger.
Still my hungry fists crave the taste of your flesh.
Too bad your bitter bones are unsavoury.
Once you wake this fire, there is no way to hush it back to sleep.
These hands break upon you like waves of smoke.
It's so difficult to keep these fantasies inside my head.
For when I dream of blood, it is so real, it seems to spill upon the floor.
