My Sweetest Friend is My Enemy

When I was little I called my anger a beast
A beast that lived inside my chest and
Clawed within my veins and throat
I used to picture myself caging her within my ribs
At one point I looked closer and what looked back at me
Wasn't a beast at all, but myself
My rage, anger, spite has created my foundation
I worry often on whether I am a bad person or not
Because my anger is threaded throughout my being
I can't seem to set a can down without slamming it
I can't even embroider without imagining it is my skin or theirs
I don't know if I would call my anger a beast
That just simply implies she isn't me
I know my anger is my sweetest friend
But she is also my greatest enemy.
Written by BlueBeastGirl (Running from the Reaper)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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