Painstaking it may be,
to fuck with someone's head.

You never asked for this,
But the fight still happens.
And it's glorious.

Left-Right Hemispheres at constant war.
Your neurons are all mixed up.
Your port won't boost.

Rancid, dilapidated, over-used waste.
You're rusty at fifteen. God knows what you'll be like
when you're thirty.

If you had the testosterone, you'd bring a sledgehammer to that
Big ol' melon of yours and knock some fucking sense into it.
Or knock some out of it.

If god existed, there would be no such thing
As a conscience.

Let's kick the habit again, shall we?