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(back)
Anger
My fists are boulders, heavy, powerful.
My arms as tense as tightened rubber bands, ready to snap.
My feet are stuck to the ground, old trees with thick roots, they burrow under the dirt, so deep.
Eyes, bright balls of fire illuminating a pitch black sky.
My heart's like a jackhammer, pounding the cement away.
Then my bottled fury breaks open, like two cars colliding, shattering the glass into sharp miniscule shards.
My mind processes and interprets information fast, like a race car.
But the car goes too fast, and loses control.
It spins into a wall, And is halted suddenly by an explosion, with a black cloud of smoke, roaring flames, into an audience that was. Article provided by 
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