• Dear Lord, I have failed you.
    This anger burns out all compassion.
    Detonated by a whisper.
    I knew what it would come to.
    Your words fill my heart with kindness
    and the urge to do good...
    Repay evil with kindness.
    But when I feel this feeling;
    when I feel I've been made a fool of,
    when my diligence is paid with distress,
    the adrenaline races to my heart.
    Like a virus--a self-fulfilling disease.
    It consumes all good like a black hole.
    It swallows up my heart.
    No amount of my recognition of folly
    or easily-triggered anger
    is enough to yield its rage.
    This paranoia and insecurity
    feed each other endlessly.
    When I open up my heart to good
    anger and spite creep up
    in the darkest recesses,
    eating away at all the forsaken compassion.
    Once again, I hate myself.