Anger: Either you're a) With me; b) Agin' me. Choose.

Anger


they *cling* to you

you feel like
everybody’s life raft.

And then, when *you’re* the one in need of ‘saving’?

Huh. Look at that: The cowards fucking RUN FOR THE DOOR. All you hear is the sound of
running feet

then
silence
as the dust settles.
‘crickets’, as popular jargon would have it.

Well, fuck ‘em.

Either they’re with me? or they’re agin’ me.
Ain’t no in between
no how
no way.

Two way street.
Meet me in the middle.