sometimes i just wanna watch the weeds in my mother's herb garden grow and not in a monotonous way like i have nothing better to do with my life cause i mean i don't but i just want to have the control of saying i could destroy you if i wanted but having even more control in never doing it don't you think it's sick and sadistic don't you think my mind is a poisonous **** itself wrapping itself around the places it doesn't belong and when it finally leaves like those summer breezes that blow leaves around then leaves them sad and despondent cause they can't fly once the breeze deserts the place and the branches and the feelings it ******* loved most and isn't it ******* ironic that a monster like the wind can feel it can destroy and destroy and destroy but it also has feelings and in the aftermath and all the torn up branches and weeping children's voices crying over look mommy my clubhouse got crushed by that falling tree and the wind was mad, honey, that's all and no i wasn't mad i was torn torn from myself and from feeling what i wanted to feel when i wanted to how i wanted to because my feelings can destroy you and me and everything else everyone else and when i look back over my shoulder those weeds have grown into a plant so spiky and forbidding that i feel helpless and know i had the control to **** it earlier but didnt and dont you wonder what it would have been like if i had just killed it at its source and just eradicated all this useless pain?