A thousand sensations feel better than this,

cool wind on my face,

the warm sun on a cold day.

The cool splash of a water fall in the summer,

and a hug from my momma.

Finishing a good book,

mowing the lawn,

or watching the sun drop with a friend after a hike.

Down a more sinister road,

being drunk or stoned is better than this.

Destroying glass jars on the road behind my house carries a satisfaction too.

But sitting alone in despair,

anger coursing through my veins,

feeling so weak and useless,

my breath catches in my chest.

I want to spill my violence on the world and share my pain.