bones

anger

and so the naive boy asked me, why are you so afraid of angry people?

and I didn't know how to answer this, really. because I know why I'm afraid. it's because I don't know how to deal with angry people, they're unpredictable, and dangerous. I've lived my life surrounded by short-tempered and bipolar beings who resort to stupid things. sometimes to drugs or running away, but most resort to violence, as if piercing flesh with punches makes them feel any better about themselves- the sickest part? maybe it does.

the worst part is that I can't handle angry boys, at all. when my math teacher yells or when my brother gets that look in eyes, it all reminds me of violence, and violence scares me so fucking much. when my best guy friend is the slightest bit mad I'm always so wary, afraid that I'll mess up and send him over the edge, though the edge has never existed for him.

I can't handle when people yell at me or scream at me, and I can't handle it when people grab my wrist or shout profanities. Some people get that angry look in their eyes and it sends my mind into defensive mode, protective mode, screaming RUN RUN RUN.

I can't handle angry people, that's the end of it.

All because of violence and the memories that swarm in my head like fatal little bees. But, bees, unlike memories, can be ridded of.