all too often i wonder how you are. and if you think about me. i try and think of the crazy things you have done, and how much fun you had. then i reflect on the things i have done. and i wonder if you care. The deeper i get in my thoughts, the more I hope you don’t think, or care, or wonder. because i’m very at home, and comfortable in the dirty corners of your mind. where you left me to grow into a carnivorous being, you wouldn’t easily conger up, from your worst memories and nightmares combined. the taste i bring up in your mouth will burn you like acid. the kind of acid you get in your mouth after dry heaving your insides out, in hopes of getting rid of the evils crawling around the inside of your chest cavity. followed by the heated frustration in your blood that you feel when you know they wont leave. i hope like hell, you dont think about me.