Anger Management

In a tiny little box she lives, surrounded by big cluttering voices. When from this tiny box her voice spills, there are few ears or eyes that spot it. In her tiny space she fills, thoughts of all their seemingly arrogant vices. In her age old heart, that's thoroughly tilled, she fills remains of logical advices. Her feelings and thoughts constantly abrogated and callously tossed aside; her musings depreciated and her sanity left locked up in why's. An inexplicable red she sees and this amounts up to even herself scare! An abnormal rage she fights to save herself from its scorching all consuming flare. In her tiny little box she rushes back to stifle, confine and hopefully tame these foreign by intensity non-tangible's before they render her lost to herself...