I could not ignore the anger I feel in my body.

An anger that I wish to deny but only

grows more when I dodge it. Its burning feeling that makes you catch your breath as you
entertain the thought of the feeling. So strong that madness goes out your system as sweat in
your palms and an urge to puke in your guts. As much power as it can hold, it was not of
violence I wish it to release; even the strongest rage is at its height, I do not let it master me.
Perhaps, disgust. This mayhem can only be halted with loathe, so much so that this fire is
dismissed by the nauseating dismay. Only then can I walk with nothing but a pity from
wherever the anger came from.