I wish I had a life-sized cut-out of you,
so that at 2 am when my anger is consumed
by the fire tucked deep inside of me,
I could take it out on you,
instead of on myself.
But no, disregard that,
I don’t get angry anymore.
I am way past anger.
This is my fury, my rage, my wrath lashing out,
writhing; longing to just wrap itself around your fragile, gaunt body,
Because genuinely, I never thought that someone who could be so sweet and caring,
could also be so cruel.
But then I perceived,
that the Devil once, was an angel too.