Anger

My eyes flashed with anger, darting around the room like a wretched soul seeking revenge. How could they have no respect for another living person? Why did anyone care about what was new or trendy? Couldn’t they politely be themselves?

An assembly of sinners. What a delightful sight. Do none of them realize that whatever they obsess over never matters in a situation of any life changing event? When you’re dying, you don’t care about how many levels of a video game you’ve beaten or how many followers you have. Will you joke about sex or rape with a killer at your throat? Will a virus not infect you if you’ve completed 70 levels, or destroyed the boss? Can your looks save you from a volcano or earthquake? Nothing matters but what’s inside your heart and the values you’ve gathered.

If you died right now, how many things would you regret?

The Untamed

Spots speckled my back from her whip. She constantly hit me, the stick in her hand like an accesssory when it was truly a weapon. They marvelled at her strength, but never understood mine. I was the beast and she was the tamer but the reverse was true. She savagely attacked me with elegance when I clearly had the control and power. She covered her scars with pretty dresses, but mine were out to show. All her lace troubled me, all of her happiness worried me. She rode me with a cold strength, void of any real power. The harness was the only reason I obeyed- thick, bright, and gold.

She hated me, but I never hated her. She beat me, but I never kicked her. I wasn’t broken, simply patient, waiting for an ideal time to leave. It came when the strange boxes arrived. Their bright flashes surely blinded her, but I was accustomed to the flash. When her hand no longer touched my side, my instinct willed my body to run. Like gears I trampled, like swords I cut. Fast within my soul latched a wild spirit, and finally, it was free.

Based on this picture