Diagnostic Criteria

8. eight-bit anger

a ticking time bomb on my chest
but it constantly resets
a short fuse that burns out

i could take a blade and scream
and thrust it into my thigh
burying it deep and twisting

i could scream obscenities
burning your soul with my words
eyes fiery with seething pain

i wash down pills to wash those "can-do's" away
i do not want to admit that i sometimes feel this way

but it is part of me
i am made of dynamite

i lock myself in my car and drive for miles
screaming at the top of my lungs
so that no one gets caught in the crossfire

those whom i love with every fiber of my being
are the ones most likely to be hurt by my seething
               rage

anger
is a very powerful feeling

like a second mind taking the pilot seat
a second hand on the clock when i exist on the hour