Volcanoes. Mountains of fire, spewing deathly poison on everything that surrounds it. Those who are smart enough to flee, survive. Those who tempt fate, invite themselves into the destruction zone. And when they have erupted… calmness ensues. Only to build and erupt once again…followed by another calmness.
Why am I this? Who am I? When did I become this person? When did my heart become so clouded by darkness that I cannot see the lava I inflict upon those I care about. I confess that I have become a volcano. I am frustrated often and irritated moderately but anger is not something I feel on a regular basis. But little frustrations build fires inside. They become bigger frustrations that speak inside my mind like voices. And before I can help it, I have spewed lava on some helpless victim. I am supposed to be learning how to help people with words but instead I kill… Some words should not be said.. All does not need to surface. Sometimes you must care more about the other person more than you care to be right or care to be heard. Because soon you will find yourself gazing upon the miles of solidified loneliness and irrational hostility.
I am a volcano… God help me to quench this…
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