I must swallow my fear, but I’m afraid the pill is to big.

His anger causes my heart to race; my thoughts splinter into what ifs and what to dos.

My eyes threatened to fill with weak tears, swelling and releasing the scares.

How can I keep my anxiety hidden from his red view?

His haunting anger hits every bone, breaking every piece of hopeful tranquility.

But imagine how he feels, my heart tells me. He has a reason for his anger.

I know. I know.

And so I feel guilt settling in my stomach like sour milk, making the urge to throw up ever so appealing.

I wish for this all to go away.

How did life go so far astray?