My concerns are taking over my brain. I'm the leader of a foul army in the house of pain. If I read, the words get scrambled like my mothers eggs on toast. If I speak, I get into trouble and it's my head they all wanna roast. I'm stuck in a perpetual cycle that I'm unwilling to admit. My head is lacking and my hand can't perform wit. My eyes are roughed like the palms of hands.

So I tried writing and when I opened up my pen my shit all came tumbling out. It stains my paper brown and ..

This is the end.