on’t picture me. Don’t put me in your mind and manipulate me. Don’t build me up or break me down. Don’t have expectations of me. I like to break your ideas. I am a dream crusher. I will stomp out
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ou feeling any better?” The emotionless wonder never ceases to amaze me. It was purely a question. Merely a statement, but I felt it none the less. It poked like a shot through years of teasing prodding
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hrill, tapered voices. Bullets to my brain and I express that. I show you with my black bowler turned down to soften my appearance with my sunglasses, big and faux, to hide my razor gaze. It’s eyes you don’t
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