Seething pustules burn along these veins with a singular pinpointed desire to scream. To rip the air with a gutteral screech and rend your ears with blood. All invisible but wholly encompassing is this hatred that spews into my morning cup of tea, infiltrating my sanctuary with its vile gore and bloodlust. It's feverish and dimwitted, driven like a hellhound on a trail. Always belittling with rasping guffaws to the weary listener, but held like a kettle without a whistle, always on the point of boiling. Steaming bubbles rising noiselessly to the surface with an infuriatingly silent sizzle that only spurs on the cruelest words desperate to be spewed forth, but contained behind clenched jaws and raging heartbeats. Hidden beneath white tipped knuckles but dripping beneath the armpit while slight bursts jiggle on the knee. So it seethes….
I wrote this one dawn and hot damn, I felt like I was on a role with this one. I might go back to writing these down. I'm just gonna stay happy with it and not try and dissect it cause this energy is gooood.