Sometimes the hate and the negativity pools and pools and the more I wrestle with it, the more it threatens to overwhelm me. But I can't let it spill out because no one deserves my shit. I may indulge it once or twice, excusing myself with possible pity given. But when a habit formed, it feels too much like I'm vengefully pulling in the one person I allow to come close. Guilt then rises up like swamp gas.
Sometimes, feel like I have too much nameless hate and frustration.
Distantly I recognise possible causes, reasons, repercussions.
I refuse to let it taint everything around me.
But I can't will it or reason it away.
I eat it up and let it eat me up.
The sludge sticks to my insides, thick, churning.
A wriggling, volatile mass that I don't know what to do with.
Crying is just indulging it; it solves nothing.
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