Expressing anger

I wish I had another way to express myself when I’m angry.

Writing intellectualises it, and I want a more primal expression of my rage. I want to scream with creation, splash my anger across a canvas, rip and tear and shred and end up with a representation of how pissed off I am.

I want to growl in key, and howl in tune and wail poetry which touches the hearts of my listeners, and I want that person I’m furious with to be in that audience.

I want my rage to penetrate their narcissistic walls in a way they can’t defend against. I want them to know the depth of bad feeling their selfish behaviour is responsible for, I want them to hurt in empathy and I want them to learn from my art that their actions have consequences, and to carefully consider what they do or do not do, say or do not say, forever more, with me and others.

I want the black tendrils of my frustration to seep into the chinks in their armour to fester and abscess until it hurts them more to do nothing, than to rectify the destruction they have caused.