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The resentful demon
The Resentful Demon
I’m experiencing a rage.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I’ve never been through such a phase.
I’m out of control.
I am so furious.
I can get very dangerous.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I lost my comprehension.
My compassion has been thrown out the window.
I’ve come to the realization, I’m beyond help.
I’ve lost myself.
How do I bring me back?
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I’ve become my paranoia.
I’ve changed for the better, but in many ways for the worse.
My anger craves thirst.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I’m out of control.
Neurotic defines me.
It’s as if my actions are in control of me.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
She claps, screams, and bites.
She’ll do anything for a fight.
She goes beyond the point of a meltdown.
She sees nothing but red.
No one understands what gets triggered in her head.
Neither does she.
She can only say so much when she speaks.
She wants to communicate, but an inability will not allow it.
She’s tired of being repressed.
She’s making her company stressed; demanding, vindictive, dictating little angel.
This demon is in disguise.
It’s so hard to detect when you see her in that flower dress.
My irrationality and her baggage are the main ingredients to this emotional mess.
I’m experiencing a rage.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I’ve never been through such a phase.
I’m out of control.
I am so furious.
I can get very dangerous.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I lost my comprehension.
My compassion has been thrown out the window.
I’ve come to the realization, I’m beyond help.
I’ve lost myself.
How do I bring me back?
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I’ve become my paranoia.
I’ve changed for the better, but in many ways for the worse.
My anger craves thirst.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
I’m out of control.
Neurotic defines me.
It’s as if my actions are in control of me.
The resentful demon wants to come out.
She claps, screams, and bites.
She’ll do anything for a fight.
She goes beyond the point of a meltdown.
She sees nothing but red.
No one understands what gets triggered in her head.
Neither does she.
She can only say so much when she speaks.
She wants to communicate, but an inability will not allow it.
She’s tired of being repressed.
She’s making her company stressed; demanding, vindictive, dictating little angel.
This demon is in disguise.
It’s so hard to detect when you see her in that flower dress.
My irrationality and her baggage are the main ingredients to this emotional mess.
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