My Anger was Angry

May 28, 2009
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When I found out what he did, I was so angry. Not just mad or mildly upset, the kind of anger that makes it feel good to punt babies through field goals. My anger was the type of anger where you grind your teeth into powder and swallow it dry angry. My anger was the sharp blades of bright red color going through my eyes angry. Not just any red, the type of red that bulls attack. My anger was like the mindset of a tsunami before it destroys angry. My anger could run through ten brick walls without a scratch. My anger was the big bang. My anger wasn’t a cold beverage on a hot summer day. It was more like chugging acid. My anger was the smell of hot sauce burning your nose. My anger was like smelling straight from the test tube when you should be wafting in chemistry. My anger was wearing gym shoes filled with broken glass and running the marathon. My anger was like nails on a chalkboard. My anger was speeding on the highway at 140 miles per hour and then crashing into a pole on purpose. My anger could climb Mount Everest in one jump, then jump down and cause havoc for the surrounding countries. For my anger could move mountains. My anger could force cats to land on their backs and the rise in the west and set in the east. My anger could take down the entire army of Alexander the Great with just a punch and a kick. My anger could cry more than the Niagara Falls. For my anger was angry.

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