Sometimes I Spew (Here)

I feel the anger usually in my gut. It becomes a stiff, solid piece of clay which I could mold into different shapes, but I can’t maneuver it out of me. Other days, I just can’t be bothered with my anger. You exhaust me, sweetie. Not today. Go away.
Perhaps I am the one most disappointed by my pessimism. I always (yes, emphasis is needed) imagine the most