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Eggshell Cracked Temple
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Against the Darkness The rage expanding outwards, pressing against the constraining flesh. Distorting the man I am, wanting to smash and break things.
All because that is all I was taught. All I have known until I found love for the self again.
Holding this beast within is an exhausting chore, it is craking my skin like a boiled egg expanding its shell. Cracking as the egg keeps boiling.
The rage bleeding out of the eyes in burning tears, the heart leaks out of the mouth in swollen cries and the spirit contorts the body while holding the rage is being pushed back. The beast weakening but there are times where the temptation is too close to make a good judgment.
Lately, I feel like a pressured bottle on a roaring flame.
