Anger.

Dear Anger,
I've been acquainted to you since a while.. however, tonight seems to be different. Tonight, you seem to be feasting. Feasting on a splinter that was much carefully preserved and tucked away into a deep corner of a silent soul that preferred not to step out of me. Tonight, I feel a screech morph into a loud wale. A wale of disgust, frustration and pure unadulterated anger.
You've never really challenged my temper as such, except once perhaps. Why are you so adamant to provoke me tonight? I've tied my tongue to chains just tonight.. so it doesn't cause irreparable damage. Damage that'll distort the vision of my blood shot eyes and I will no longer have control over my senses which'll be over powered by blood lust.
I'm taming my mind to behave and remember the pleasant, the happy, the beautiful. You- however, seem to be only pushing me,pushing me as hard as you can over the edge from which there isn't a climb back, once I fall.
Don't provoke me. This silent anger in me is dangerous. It's more dangerous for I don't need muscles to tear apart the world I've made around me, the people,the relationships. My silence will kill, don't provoke me, my dear Anger.
For you're wasting me, and you don't want me to retort with something that might destroy you brutally.

-Yours faithfully,
a broken smile.

(P.S- this was saved as a draft on my account for a looong time. I thought I'd publish it anyway. Feedbacks are welcome, as always)
-Nil.