Lashing

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Rage, rage, against the thick, dark glasses of piercing hate. I answer hate with hate, there is fire in the heart that burns so tightly, the blaze so large it will engulf me from the inside out, whole. Arsonist, I let the wild flow out, like rain it pours, like rivers it goes, burning everything it touches, me most of all.

Their gaze is heavy with ash, more ash dusts down each time they blink. But blinking is an illusion, the gaze is hardly broken, for who cares if one laser among a hundred doesn’t open. My thoughts are slower than my intentions, it is upon me to burn this house down before time should catch up. They hear the dust sizzle out and send a smoke, they are by their own due warned, but proud of the pain the glasses watch, unaware that I don’t reserve any claim.

Rage, rage, against the thick, dark glasses of piercing hate. The first lick on the metal frame, it melts away like sand to water, second, far off the frame fears and falls, and slowly I smile. My burns are loud, I won’t live to see the end of them, but I see their gazes flicker, their hate flicker, and mine is all the stronger for it.

Panic! Let yours be the last voice, on earth and below! Cry and scream, then scream once more, until even the sound cracks and falls, like ash.

Let my rage know no saving. No stopping.

Rage, rage, rage, until it ends.

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