October 29, 2011
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My frustration is a fire that keeps on being fed.

Fed by People, Intentions, Circumstances, Moments, Thoughts.

Everything feeds my fire.

Though not easily sparked, it grows rapidly. Massive and defiant.

It thinks not, only destroys. Turns everything close into ashes, leaving me blinded.

However much it obliterates, though, it cannot reach its maker.

It can only touch its beloved, burning them down to the floor.

Then it fades. Becomes smaller. I am no longer affected by its grasp.

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