I'm so full of hate, when I didn't think anger was possible for me. But who am I to be so special that I'm protected from the harshness of rage. My body quakes with it some days. My anger is a double edged sword, one half cutting the world open. The other half cutting me. I sabotage myself with irony, being against myself and the life I've been given when it's my only body, only shot, only chance to live.
And all I do is hate.