Classifying new people under the expectation of being all you need and all you've ever wanted is a harder activity than you may assume.
Understanding and connecting with a broken body and limply dull mind is nearly impossible.
Establishing a deeper desire to learn the crevices of bodily delicacy remains a complete and utter mystery.
Determining who would be the next victim of those impulses of yours prove to be a heart wrenching talent you've obtained from years of practice. Quite a fun game, isn't it?
Allowing for the pain of possible failure has the potential to break another body and leave yet another mind at your complete and utter dismay.
Dedication is another thing.
Recognizing a young girl as the one person meant to succumb to your lower than low levels of manipulation takes a hell of a lot of dedication.
I see older boys preying on the weak and innocent for their own beneficial gain, knowing for a fact that they've never been touched in a way that will satisfy you because all you've got are fake realities pressed as a simple matter of tomorrow, knowing it is not a necessary factor of the love they impose upon a little girl.
It was never really something they could offer, seeing as all they've ever done was pretend that their hearts were full of gold, rather than that black smut lingering in their lungs, and the chemically induced high pulsating through their veins.
It's all a game to them. What they want, and who they desire continues to be contained by the pressure that builds in their heads' between hits. Pretending that all they've ever needed was right in front of them, and not across town crying in a bed of lies under the sharp pain of the hands pulling them down.
They know they can't have anymore because it's bad, but they'll do it anyway because it fucking feels good, you know?
