A hunter
a fighter
a cat
a predator
that seeks
the prowl
the kill
is within me.
A lion,
a tiger
a bobcat
does not really matter
which beast you give me title;
clawing at my skins surface
from the inside
asking for the fight.
Anger needs to get out
GET IT OUT OF ME. GET IT OUT OF ME. GET IT OUT OF ME.
I WANT TO FIGHT.
Let me seek out the wrong doers
that have done me wrong
and let them see their wrongs
let me beat the bullies
that hurt the helpless
let me slash the slim balls
that manipulate the naive
let me run.
I want to run so fast
that I cannot feel
I want to hit so hard
that my skin feels its threshold
I want to scream so loud
that the world knows its me
they all know I am still a fighter
they all know that I fight hard
that I do not need to prove
although I prove myself still.
I want to keep on hitting
until myself becomes a bloody pulp
can you hear the pant
the grunt
sparks of fire
flashes of determination
umbrella-ed by pure anger
under covered by solid sadness.
I want it all to be the end
I want the anger to go
to hit and roar for so long
to defeat and defend
beat and run for long enough
that anger
has fled.
Because I want it out.
I want it out.
GOD GET IT OUT.
Who is it for?!
What is it for?!
I feel it only for myself,
I feel it only for my wrongs,
I feel it only towards each
part of my being
and the cat attacks
me.
My mind,
my body
my soul cannot operate
be connected
be alive, well, within divine
without a fire
with an angry roar of self-destruction
with a prowl for another way
for a hunt to hate only myself
and the fight to keep out the love.