I Have Spoken

What greater poison can there be than resentment unleasshed?  It is toxic and rude and is the corner stone of a horror house of anger, bitterness, rage, jagged and rusty edges that threaten to cut and sever relationship, brutalizing the victim of its attention and attack. It is a silent brooding and boiling that festers and spills out of the lips of the resent filled, scalding innocent bystanders who unwittingly find themselves in the path of the sulphurous stench and burning vomit of a blackened heart.  Too late, too late is the sentiment when sitting stunned and realizing that getting out of the way wasn't an option and that the vileness of resentment has spilled onto me and I feel the distaste in my mouth, the bile of yuck over witnessing the self indulgence that resentment gives way to, the entitlement of complaint unwarranted, unkind, untrue and utterly unnecessary.  I have spoken.