Anger

Red is anger
It feels like something in the pit of my stomach, the power withen my tense muscles
It sounds like slaming doors, music blaring in my headphones, and silence because I dont say much when I'm mad
It tastes like the grit in my teeth when I bite my tounge to keep from exploding
It smeels like chlorine and the pool where I show up everynight for practice to release my anger into my frantic yet graceful strokes
It looks like the Redness in my cheeks and my eyes silently staring someone down across the room.