raw knuckles | poem

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angry
i am angry
at the world
at myself
at my parents for bringing me here
and leaving me to
rot
with my own nasty
thoughts
my skin is raw
and sore
from trying to
break away
from whatever this is
that has entrapped me
i am angry
that i am angry
because this rage
has done nothing but
consume any
sanity that
i strove to retain
and it's
driving me
up the
wall.
-n.c

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