Anger
I’m Furious
But words can’t describe what I’m feeling now.
The sheer frustration cuts through me like a blunt knife, too cowardly to take it’s annoyance to the inayofuata level.
It stays, inkling away at me, making me feel zaidi hopeless every second.
Hopeless, because the zaidi this white anger burns away at me the zaidi I want to hurt something.
But the zaidi I destroy, the zaidi they seem to mock me.
I beat my face as hard as I can, but I have been numbed kwa my rage.
I run outside and scream as loud as I can. I curse. Words have failed me. I am at the mercy of filth.
I look for things to ruin. I grab at things, and tear whatever will submit under my desperate claws.
Everything has gone wrong. It always does.
I’m a failure.
Every bad memory comes flooding back to me, bringing me dry sadness.
I wait for tears to come, but even they fail me.
At least if I cried this toxic wingu would release its rain, and I would be rid of it until inayofuata time.
I wield strength and power from this beast they call anger, but I can’t control it.
It throbs from underneath my skin.
I try to release it but nothing helps, bring me to a level of hopelessness I never though possible.
I scream at my friends, I want them to hate me. Then I can hate myself.
But their comforting words and smile just makes them seem further away. Make me lonelier.
I try to release to anger once zaidi and fail miserably.
Just as I begin to drown into a sea of uselessness, I realize something.
Beautiful, poetic words suddenly come to me.
The poetry that seems to go hand in hand with experience.
I no longer feel a failure, even though the wingu of anger stays.
The ocean of white fury still remains, but at least I have surfaced.
I still hate the world. But the world had seemed to take pity and had aliyopewa something back. Something I never thought I had.
We all succumb to the beast of anger. And I knew he would always follow me, waiting for the right moment to sever me with its frustrating dagger.
So what do I do about it?
I write.
I’m Furious
But words can’t describe what I’m feeling now.
The sheer frustration cuts through me like a blunt knife, too cowardly to take it’s annoyance to the inayofuata level.
It stays, inkling away at me, making me feel zaidi hopeless every second.
Hopeless, because the zaidi this white anger burns away at me the zaidi I want to hurt something.
But the zaidi I destroy, the zaidi they seem to mock me.
I beat my face as hard as I can, but I have been numbed kwa my rage.
I run outside and scream as loud as I can. I curse. Words have failed me. I am at the mercy of filth.
I look for things to ruin. I grab at things, and tear whatever will submit under my desperate claws.
Everything has gone wrong. It always does.
I’m a failure.
Every bad memory comes flooding back to me, bringing me dry sadness.
I wait for tears to come, but even they fail me.
At least if I cried this toxic wingu would release its rain, and I would be rid of it until inayofuata time.
I wield strength and power from this beast they call anger, but I can’t control it.
It throbs from underneath my skin.
I try to release it but nothing helps, bring me to a level of hopelessness I never though possible.
I scream at my friends, I want them to hate me. Then I can hate myself.
But their comforting words and smile just makes them seem further away. Make me lonelier.
I try to release to anger once zaidi and fail miserably.
Just as I begin to drown into a sea of uselessness, I realize something.
Beautiful, poetic words suddenly come to me.
The poetry that seems to go hand in hand with experience.
I no longer feel a failure, even though the wingu of anger stays.
The ocean of white fury still remains, but at least I have surfaced.
I still hate the world. But the world had seemed to take pity and had aliyopewa something back. Something I never thought I had.
We all succumb to the beast of anger. And I knew he would always follow me, waiting for the right moment to sever me with its frustrating dagger.
So what do I do about it?
I write.
Prologue Look at the world, yeah go on and look at it. Now tell me, What do wewe see? Home? Life? Secrets? Death? Anything? Well most people always see it differently. But they never see what’s right in front of them.
When wewe look at the world wewe always see the small things. wewe never see the big obvious things that lurk in the shadows of every dark corner .
Well some of us see it, others… don’t. You’d be surprised kwa ever secret, every hidden thing yet to be discovered… au never will.
And I know we shouldn’t be telling you, but wewe ought to know.
So look at the world, that’s right look at it. Because it’s going to change forever…
When wewe look at the world wewe always see the small things. wewe never see the big obvious things that lurk in the shadows of every dark corner .
Well some of us see it, others… don’t. You’d be surprised kwa ever secret, every hidden thing yet to be discovered… au never will.
And I know we shouldn’t be telling you, but wewe ought to know.
So look at the world, that’s right look at it. Because it’s going to change forever…
Okay this fits to be makala worthy. I have this budding idea for a story about a girl named Skye(real named skylar) who discovers that she and her two Marafiki are Sirens ( a different kind than wewe think). They all have ibdividual powers like Skye can use other peoples power, Hazelle and Gabriel,s powers are conjuring moto and Hazelle can shapeshift objects. Their parents were Marafiki and there dads, and hazelle and gabriel have one parent while skye has none, she lives with her aunt and she has this Lost sister who thinks she is a Siren but is their kinds' enemy. Meanwhile Hazelle and Gabriel are dating but skye and him are close because their moms were Marafiki and wjen her parents died she lived with them for a while as kids. So eventually they like each other. This story is confusing and jeeds work but its what i have. Tell me should i tweek it au leave it alone. Also give me insight into what to do to fix it. Thanks.
Falling...
Sometimes she’s down kwa the river
au other times kwa her tree
Sometimes she thinks about the things she can never see
But when the rain falls down, she’d cry
There’s no reason why
She’s always walked alone
No one’s ever shared her ride
No one’s ever felt close to her, no one’s ever kwa her side
She’s avoided kwa everyone
And never has any fun
Now darkness is her favourite thing
She thinks there’s no hope
No on ever throws her a rope
When she’s falling…
Sometimes she’s down kwa the river
au other times kwa her tree
Sometimes she thinks about the things she can never see
But when the rain falls down, she’d cry
There’s no reason why
She’s always walked alone
No one’s ever shared her ride
No one’s ever felt close to her, no one’s ever kwa her side
She’s avoided kwa everyone
And never has any fun
Now darkness is her favourite thing
She thinks there’s no hope
No on ever throws her a rope
When she’s falling…