Untitled
- R. Harris
- Dec 8, 2025
- 1 min read
No use in being angry anymore
It's a well-worn road that guarantees no betterment
No improvement to be found in rage,
In the hot red of your peripherals
No use,
And yet it occupies the computer in your chest.
You sit in that car
Listening to slow and steady breaths
And wonder why your eyes are wet
Or why your fingertips feel ablaze
Your skin is so hot, so warm
And it's cause of one thing.
No use in it,
It's a path of desire in your neurons,
It's the most familiar route for your artillery
Heart thudding to the floor of your chest,
The cavern within you fills itself with blood
And you taste the iron at the back
Of your tongue like espresso.
You wonder why you feel red inside
But you should be wondering why you feel anything
No use in being angry anymore,
In being sad or distraught
Just get under it like you were told,
Just get over it.
