War for self.4

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My psyche when I am weight training 25/4/16

It is brutal,

never gentle,

that side of me.

It eats up my weakness

and chews to a pulp

any fear.

It loathes

and contempts

doubt

and spits in the eye of hesitation.

It is pure hatred

blended with iron determination 

tempered by rage.

 

It is the feeling of walking through walls,

crushing bricks in my bare hands,

snapping my own body in two

and loving it.

I dare not stand up to myself

when I am like that,

the only way is forward

and God help me

if I am in the way.

 

My teeth clench

and my breath comes ragged,

I spit anger

from jaws made of steel.

My eyes burn holes into my objective,

my face a mask of hate.

And then I grip the cold metal

and I lift.

 

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