Aware of It

Oh that rage is ready to say stuff that another part of me will regret subsequently,

That rage has been building and building,
And is ready to self-destruct for attention,

That rage is ready,
Yet here I am,
Noticing it,
While not (as much) in the grip of it,

Yet even though I’m aware of it,
Sometimes it feels so painful that I’m like “fuck it”,
And then I’ll give in to it as it makes me appear as a dangerous unhinged hypomanic idiot,

Yeah I have felt to have taken a lot of unnecessary shit,
And of course holding it,
Feeds the rage,
As it grows and grows in the (of course I’ll use this rhyme..) cage..,

And yeah so therefore,
It’ll break the cage,
And blast out of me even while knowing that’ll significantly increase the possibility of me spending the rest of my life in a cage of pain that’s horrific beyond words,

Yet the rage does not care,
Because,
The rage,
Feels too much pain already,

So of course my rage will not regard the possibilities of the most brutal consequences imaginable,
Because the rage already feels too unbearable,

Yet at least I’m now aware of it,
While NOT doing anything NOR saying anything I may likely regret,

At least I’m somewhat aware of it