What am I supposed to do with this rage? This agony that makes me wish the people I hate could be lined up in front of me.
I would not use a gun or a bomb like a coward, no, I could have superhuman strength to hunt them down and tear their stomachs out with my own teeth.
This disillusion that makes me wish I could be covered in the blood of world leaders and shred fascists' skin with my own nails. I would watch them beg for mercy and I would smile because I would give them none. I would treat them like they treat the poorest, the children, the mothers. I would want them boiled alive in vats of their guilt, in the innocent blood they spilled.
I would spit in their wounds with the salt of dying oceans.
And in the end, I would kill myself and join them in hell, because my violence is wrong, but it is all I can feel.
11-2-23
YOU ARE READING
Afternoon Thoughts
Non-Fictionメ Thoughts of a bleeding mind. Sometimes, the darkest thoughts swirl to become the most beautiful dance when woven into words. To write calms me. Perhaps someone will know these feelings.
