I feel the slow, hot burn of unremitting rage.
I am a furnace of anger; I slow cook my insides on high heat until they roast.
Boil.
Then ignite.
I am enveloped in the agonizing pincushion of hate. and it's for you. Please accept my offering, darling.
I've wrapped it in red. Mad red. I hope you don't mind? It's all I have. And it's for you.
You go ahead and take it. Suffer with it. Suffer with me.
Hate me back.
Do it.
I DARE you.
And then you will cook. You will Sizzle and prickle. I hope you are pan-fried alive from the inside.
Do you feel it yet?
