I'm not proud about what I did.
If the past defines a person, then I am scum.
I'm not proud of what I said when I was angry.
Even if I wasn't angry at you. You would bear the brunt of my rage.
I'm not perfect but I also know you aren't either.
I'm not proud or happy when I come back down from a blank, adrenaline rushed, black mind and see I destroyed something again.
Physical objects are fragile.
Humans are frail.
One word or action, and everything can break.
I don't like to break things.
I've found it's what I'm best at.
I'm sorry.