Picking Up The Pieces

I woke up wounded today.

I can only remember that I was so drunk last night. When I went home the door was double locked from the inside despite of the fact that I informed my housemates I would be out. Anger made my head swirl. I almost brought the door down had they not opened it. I went to my room disgusted and fuming mad. I poured my anger inside the room. I broke everything in sight. Saw a pair of scissors. It was nice and orange. I tried it on my wrists. It felt good.

I’ve been angry for so long that it would cost my sleep, my train of thought, my health. My dreams are full of hatred and pain. My mouth is sore from constant gnashing of teeth. After harboring anger, finally it erupted like hell. I will never be the same again.

Well- everything is broken now.

And it felt good.

“Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else... yet, you are the one who gets burned.”