chaste pecks from the super-sonic youth numb lips flutter to the hollowed cheeks of normality no longer the hand-prints on the guide book to hostility a pamphlet of rudimentary teachings; the principles of tolerance and rebellion and acceptance of human beings a concoction of suppressed psychotic behavior, quick wit, and center of satirical tease constantly moving with heavy footsteps and heavier hearts their minds and bodies plagued with actions from a deserted youth soul lusting over the naivety of people before self-actualization; how crude do they call it an existential crisis or the daily life of a agoraphobic nobody shouts from the depths of caged fears that scrape the oblivious flesh in their brain; a bit gaudy mother, sister, brother, father how your words crush the knots of comfort that line my internal organs bleeding from the pores of my screams; streams of moon-beams shooting out my eyes; oh, not again! stomping our metaphorically spiked toenails against the idealism of pop culture oh, my, how adolescence is the worst kind of torture cherry slushies lined with cigarettes to create a whirl-pool of nostalgia recreational drugs and ironic situations to ease our instinctual sense of proverbial nausea loud-mouthed demons spawned out of clothes-hangers and emotional turmoil show up in our nightmares that we nick-name ‘a good place to contemplate suicide’ repeated imagery stacked like flap-jacks in the mouths of blissed-out sociopaths too self-indulgent to include us in to their personal stories so we can observe, record, and assess i don’t perceive doctors to be particularly and predominantly just and true but i one time met a doctor who told me ‘being a teenager is perhaps the hardest thing you could ever do’