The sky is a mesh of bruised purples and bloody reds streaked with darkening clouds, and I've never been angrier to see it. The sun is a pale thing somewhere out of sight, too afraid to face me now that I could do something about it. The world is afraid. I can feel it as easily as I can feel my own heart pushing and pulling blood through me. I'm just as angry at it. I'm angry at everything. I didn't want there to be a tomorrow. I barely wanted a today. And now I'd see another. I'd feel another light breeze turn into a fierce hurricane. I'd watch as another grain of sand filtered into the unending pool in the hourglass, and I'm useless to stop it.
I want to scream, but I'm out of that kind of rage. The anger in me now is the kind that leaves you hollow and empty and burning. It's the only thing left to me, and I want to swallow it like it has swallowed me. I want to choke it out like a flame, but the anger in me needs no oxygen to burn. It just keeps eating away as I damn the sky and everything else because... that's all I can really do. Despite all my power- all my strength- I'm helpless.
I damn it all, and I wish that it would damn me, too.