Frustration breeds in me all manner of wicked thoughts.

Like shredding someone’s eye with a carrot peeler.
A sewing needle in someone’s urethra.
Nipples in a meat grinder.
Paper cuts on the iris.
A razor blade inside a lollipop.
Prying off fingernails with a bottle opener.
A white-hot curling iron in someone’s vagina.

I put this up here because I want everyone to grimace like I grimace. To feel sick like I feel sick. To hurt so I don’t have to.

It’ll all get better eventually. But right now I’m just a rabid dog who wants to lash out at everything.