Darkness is replaced by light. Like a cup of water it's poured out of the soul and filled with goodness that the boy tries to take in. He knows the darkness can take hold easily so he closes the door says babe I can't open it you aren't good for me. The darkness isn't a girl it isn't a person it's him it's who he is or was or is or was or isn't at all and never was. The boy grows tired, mind going faster than an old Windows computer which if you don't know isn't really fast at all. Speed-dial static manifests in his mind he craves a cigarette he's never smoked or some **** he cannot ****. He won't dip his fingers into greed so instead he'll dip his fingers into ****, or friends who smoke **** or just friends who he knows aren't good for him. One's who call him fat *** even though they probably don't know that he'd spent approximately two years starving himself so the one time he indulges they decide to say that. To call him fat and put him down why is it that he chooses the things that aren't good for him? Every. Single. Time.
  
   The computer finally boosts up faster, words spill out faster than the darkness coming out of him so finally he has something to write about. His angst turned bitter spills out, his anger spills out, his sadness spills out there's just a various amounts of spilling from his body like an **** in Japan he's soaked in juices...of emotion.

   (I can't think of anything else so end).