why do my obsessions always run so deep, so prolonged
i become someone else, utterly and totally, tunnel vision
without care or caring, without self, without ground

perhaps getting off your anger is like getting off on it
you simmer and stew and the world is a brick
you want to hurl
and instead it smashes you, grinds you
until almost all hope is gone, almost all reason is gone
almost, almost
but the spit is yours, the blood is yours, all this feeling is yours
and you stand up, you breathe
and you are home again