Untethered
The tension wrinkles my fingers into fists. Like concrete, they crumble everything they hit. Some call it a hair trigger, to me there's just no foe that's bigger. No motherfucker I can't disfigure. There's a purpose for everything. I wrestle with the remnants of the good in me to wriggle free from the clutches of this darkness that's painted everything black. Try to revive the angel on my back, but finding air to breathe is now a rarity to me. You made me like this. The horrific monster hellbent on dismembering your kids. Call it a coincidence, call it arrogance. I'll sell what I can and take the downtime in stints. I'll furrow my brow in self preservation sprints. There's no reason I should exist. I could come clean with this thunderstorm inside of me. Will this rage expire? Will this anger retire? Glorious kingdom not meant for me. Will I just turn to stone? Escape from revery