Wildfire

The anger spreads like wildfire through my limbs. How does something so simple create so much fire inside of me? It is as if I no longer control my own body. My actions become harsh, quicker and almost aimlessly violent. Even my vision changes. Somehow, things manage to become clearer and hazy at the same time. My head fills with profanity I would not dare to say out loud. I curse anyone who may have even slightly contributed to situation. I desire nothing but violence.

And then...it disappears. The fire is gone. There is nothing left but the burnt ashes of time. The anger dissipates to emptiness. As soon as it appears and fills my life, it leaves and my life becomes empty. The fire is always followed by a period of death. Eventually, the new growth will come. But the death seems to last an eternity. The ashes and burnt structure of my once there life mocks me. It laughs as if I were a pitiful creature charred and barely breathing in the middle of a once luscious prairie that has been reduced to ash and soot. And perhaps I am.

Or perhaps I am really the fire and the creature is who I should be.