At your door, I ring the bell with the letter of quiet anger in hand.

I can’t do anything without you screaming in my ear, telling me what I’m not and what I am. Do I even appear to be human or just a violent, angry, hate filled thing? Born of your own anger I presume. You set my destiny, despite knowing I’ll defy it without cause. You say things, then go against your word. Maybe that’s where’s I got my patterns from, no? I see you. I see your sins, you are not some all powerful being, are you? “ Here lies the remains of what was, so sad she never got to see what was to come. “