Anger.

It does not hang over you the way sadness does,

It does not weigh you down.

It does not hold you back.

It propels you forward until it can become,

Hatred.

It is the fire, the fuel, the engine.

It is what urges you on,

What can force you to be smart or stupid,

Until it becomes all

Consuming.

It is the climactic explosion.

It is the past and it is the future,

It can kill who you once were if you let it.

It can give you the satisfaction of hurting those who made you bleed.

It can give you

Revenge.

The moment,

The thing that you’ve thought about nonstop for days, months, years.

But there is no closure on the other side.

You’ll still be,

Angry.

You’ll still be,

Hurt.

Only now a little guilty and a little worse.