they yelled at me to kick rocks, so now i\'m modified by these teenage dreams. i\'m a blazing fire in the winter; unable to be tamed, causing havoc among serenity. i\'m the poor, lost soul at the bottom of your pill bottle, rotting, and begging for you to come and find me. my utterly graceful interruption in your conscientiousness seemed foreign and intergalactic -- it astounded your very being, not-so-accidentally putting your abundant thoughts in paralysis. you made a mistake by letting me figure out that you couldn\'t even breathe without the daily thought of me, causing vibrancy to pierce your otherwise dim eyes. you were vulnerable and i was determined to claim my prize. i planned it all out, like the shows because i figured it out early on -- no matter what, you wouldn\'t run. i was the calming voice in your head when you had that intoxicant, rusted needle in your arm, but still screaming and insisting that you weren\'t a junkie. i bet you thought it\'d be easy to run -- too bad your legs are broken. is it getting harder to breathe? i remember you were on your bloody knees, extruding sadness and praying for me to stop being the evolution to your madness. good thing I\'ll be gone by morning, but it\'ll be haunting you. this still won\'t be enough. i watched one last time as your acumen was shattered to dust and then i was off to kick rocks.