crash&burn.

I want to scream. I want to fucking scream and scream until I can’t make any more noise. I want to throw myself against all the walls until I’m bruised all over and sore. I want to hit my head against the stone wall outside until my skull cracks. I want to rip off all my skin with my nails. I want to bite my tongue off. I want to go into the kitchen, open up the cupboards and throw all the glasses on the floor and roll around in the shards. I want to go through the hallway and smash all the pictures [me at seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven].  I feel so awful. So fucking awful. I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry and I’m not allowed to be. I’m supposed to be humble and docile and modest. I can’t show shame or fear or rage. I can’t take this anymore. Crawling and itching and tickling. I can’t keep myself quiet anymore. I’m going to start yelling and shouting and screaming and crying. I’m going to fucking break into pieces. I’m going to shatter.