Red.

Red for the anger inside,

It twists and burns,

Withers and turns.

It’s an acid laced through my veins.

Tearing and breaking,

Straight to my brain.

It whistles and mocks,

The world that I see.

It growls and roars,

For the person I could be.

A being of red,

A creature of violence.

Survival of the fittest,

The fittest I could be.

Should I let this monster out,

Should I let it feed and be free.